Tales and novels

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES

GIFT OF

FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD

FOR THE
ENGLISH READING ROOM

S TILE HACKJREI"

At this Judy takes -up the corner of her apron.

and -jjut;: it first : -ind then to t'other.

beinjS to all appparan'.'f i ' i'.tle'

//IN «• CRADOCK,

TfcKNOSTKR HO

CASTLE RACKRENT,

AND

IRISH BULLS,

<f,A IE DG.E "WORTH.

Rose ran in teiweon us u> Pel the musket from ray hand:
it -was loaded . and went off in the straggle, and ibe "ball lodged
HI her body.' " *

. BALDWIN & CBADOCK, PATERKOSTBR RCW.
AlfD OTHER PROPSIETOKS.

1«32.

TALES AND NOVELS

MARIA EDGEWORTH.

IN EIGHTEEN VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

CONTAINING

CASTLE RACKRENT;
AN ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS;

AN ESSAY ON

THE NOBLE SCIENCE OF SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR BALDWIN AND CRADOCK;
j. MURRAY; j. BOOKER; A. K. NKWMAN AND co. ; WHITTAKER

TRBACHRR, AND ARNOT; T. TKGG ; SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL
SMITH, Kl.llKK, AND CO.; 8. HODGSON; HOULSTON AND SON

i. TKMPLEMAN; j. BAIN; R. MACKIE; RENSIIAW AND RUSH

AND G. AND J. KOBINSON, LIVERPOOL.

1H32.

PRINTED BY C. BALDWIN, NEW BRIDGE-STREET.

CONTENTS.

Page
CASTLE RACKRENT . . 1

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS . . . .121

Introduction . . . . .123

Chap. I. Originality of Irish Bulls examined . .129

II. Irish Newspapers . . . .137

III. The Criminal Law of Bulls and Blunders . 148

IV. Little Dominick . . . .155
V. The Bliss of Ignorance . . .16?

VI. " Thoughts that breathe and Words that burn" 175

VII. Practical Bulls . . . .182

VIII. The Dublin Shoeblack . . .189

IX. The Hibernian Mendicant . . . 200

X. Irish Wit and Eloquence . . . 208

XL The Brogue . . . . .220

XII. Bath Coach Conversation . . . 227

XIII. Bath Coach Conversation . . . 239

XIV. The Irish Incognito .... 243
Conclusion ..... 276
Appendix ..... 281

AN ESSAY ON THE NOBLE SCIENCE OF SELF-JUS-
TIFICATION ..... 291

PUBLISHERS1 ADVERTISEMENT.

THIS Edition of the TALES and NOVELS of Miss
EDGEWORTH, which, in conformity with the present
prevailing taste, is embellished with Plates, and
presented to the Public in Monthly Volumes, will
consist of Castle Rackrent, Irish Bulls, The Moral
Tales, Popular Tales, Tales of Fashionable Life, The
Modern Griselda, Belinda, Leonora, Patronage, Har-
rington, and Ormond, and a few smaller pieces. It is
not intended to include in it any of those writings of
Miss Edgeworth which are of a more juvenile character
than the Moral Tales, a smaller size being deemed
more appropriate. Of these a fitter opportunity for
speaking will occur hereafter: at present it is only
necessary to say, that there are few persons who have
not, in their earliest years, experienced the greatest
pleasure, and imbibed the highest moral truths, from
the perusal of the "Early Lessons" and " The Parent's
Assistant." " Rosamond and Frank," " The Little
Dog Trusty," and " The Cherry Orchard," will not be
easily forgotten by them ; and in their after years they
will delight to renew, and will profit by renewing, their
early acquaintance, by a perusal of works from the
same pen, but adapted to maturer age.
a 3

VI

With respect to her works of higher pretensions, it
may be justly said, that her TALES and NOVELS form
a class by themselves. They are for the most part
Irish ; but without any of those savage features so
painfully characteristic of the novels which, for the
last few years, have turned on the circumstances of
Ireland, or that admixture of foreign manners which is
so striking in the works of Lady Morgan. They con-
tain highly-finished pictures of fashionable and domestic
life, and yet have few points of similarity, if any, to
the novels of Hook, Bulwer, Lord Mulgrave, on one
side, or Miss Ferier, Miss Austin, or Mrs. Brunton, 6n
the other. Though they cannot be said, strictly, to be
Historical, yet they will be found to resemble no con-
temporary works in the department of Romance so
much as the earlier novels of the Author of Waverley.
Sir Walter Scott, indeed, with his characteristic frank-
ness, has acknowledged that his original idea, when he
commenced his career as a novelist, was to be to Scot-
land what Miss Edgeworth was to Ireland — to pourtray
peculiarities of manners belonging rather to the gene-
ration passing away than to that which now exists ;
and to give life to the national scenery, and permanence
to the national characteristics of his countrymen.
Waverley, Guy Mannering, Rob Roy — the novels to
which Sir Walter Scott originally intended to have
confined himself, bear, in their most striking features, av
considerable likeness to Castle Rackrent, Ennui, Or-
mond, &c. ; and the works of Miss Edgeworth will not
suffer by a comparison which, to almost any other

' Til

series, could not fail to be fatal ; while she may also
justly claim the merit of priority.*

In depicting the strange varieties of Irish Character,
whether grave or gay, she is confessedly without an
equal ; and when she puts her foot upon a soil foreign
to her own, she does not tread it as a stranger. The
same felicity which inspires her in the unequalled cha-
racters of Sir Phelim, King Corny, &c. presides over
the pictures which, in " Patronage," and other works,
she draws from the higher classes of English society.
Her comic and playful satire ranks her high in the
dominions of humour, while it is combined with a
sterling common sense, and a power of picturesque

* " Two circumstances, in particular, recalled my recollection
of the mislaid manuscript. The first was the extended and
well-merited fame of Bliss Edgeworth, whose Irish characters
have gone so far to make the English familiar with the cha-
racter of their gay and kind-hearted neighbours of Ireland, that
she may be truly said to have done more towards completing the
Union, than perhaps all the legislative enactments by which it
has been followed up.

" Without being so presumptuous as to hope to emulate the
rich humour, pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact, which
pervade the works of my accomplished friend, I felt that some-
thing might be attempted for my own country, of the same
kind with that which Miss Edgeworth so fortunately achieved
for Ireland — something which might introduce her natives to
those of the sister kingdom, in a more favourable light than
they had been placed hitherto, and tend to procure sympathy
for their virtues and indulgence for their foibles." — Extract
from Sir Walter Scott's General Preface to the Waverley
Novels.

a 4

description which seldom fall to the lot of the wit or the
satirist. Her story-telling powers are admirable: who
hut herself could infuse so much grace and shrewdness
into so small a compass as we find them in the Moral
and Popular Tales, in " To-Morrow/' " Murad the
Unlucky/' and many others? It is, however, unneces-
sary now to eulogize the works of Miss Edgeworth:
they have taken an enduring position in the literature
of the country, and the Publishers of this Series give it
to the world in a well-grounded confidence of its suc-
cessful reception.

The Series will be printed in eighteen Monthly
Volumes, and published at 5s. each. The Embellish-
ments will be of the very first order, consisting of a
Frontispiece and Vignette Title to each volume. They
will be executed (on steel) by the most eminent En-
gravings, from Paintings wholly by HARVEY, who un-
questionably is, and will ere long be universally ac-
knowledged to be, in the first class of British Artists.

To delineate with accuracy the peculiar scenery of
Ireland, and to give to native character all its humour
and truth, this talented artist has traversed many of the
districts of Ireland, and is thus enabled to introduce
into his fine drawings living character, and much of the
wild and beautiful landscape of the country.

The whole of the Works have undergone a careful
Revision and Correction by the Author herself.

PATERNOSTER- ROW,

April 30, 1832.

PREFACE.

THE prevailing taste of the public for anecdote
has been censured and ridiculed by critics who
aspire to the character of superior wisdom : but if
we consider it in a proper point of view, this taste
is an incontestible proof of the good sense and pro-
foundly philosophic temper of the present times. Of
the numbers who study, or at least who read history,
how few derive any advantage from their labours !
The heroes of history are so decked out by the fine
fancy of the professed historian ; they talk in such
measured prose, and act from such sublime or such
diabolical motives, that few have sufficient taste,
wickedness, or heroism, to sympathise in their fate.
Besides, there is much uncertainty even in the best
authenticated ancient or modern histories ; and that
love of truth, which in some minds is innate and im-
mutable, necessarily leads to a love of secret memoirs,
and private anecdotes. We cannot judge either of
the feelings or of the characters of men with perfect
accuracy, from their actions or their appearance in
public ; it is from their careless conversations, their
half-finished sentences, that we may hope with the
greatest probability of success to discover their real

X PREFACE.

characters. The life of a great or of a little man
written by himself, the familiar letters, the diary of
any individual published by his friends or by his
enemies, after his decease, are esteemed important
literary curiosities. We are surely justified, in this
eager desire, to collect the most minute facts relative
to the domestic lives, not only of the great and good,
but even of the worthless and insignificant, since it
is only by a comparison of their actual happiness or
misery in the privacy of domestic life that we can
form a just estimate of the real reward of virtue, or
the real punishment of vice. That the great are not
as happy as they seem, that the external circum-
stances of fortune and rank do not constitute felicity,
is asserted by every moralist: the historian can
seldom, consistently with his dignity, pause to illus-
trate this truth : it is therefore to the biographer we
must have recourse. After we have beheld splendid
characters playing their parts on the great theatre
of the world, with all the advantages of stage effect
and decoration, we anxiously beg to be admitted
behind the scenes, that we may take a nearer view
of the actors and actresses.

Some may perhaps imagine, that the value of
biography depends upon the judgment and taste of
the biographer : but on the contrary it may be main-
tained, that the merits of a biographer are inversely
as the extent of his intellectual powers and of his
literary talents. A plain unvarnished tale is pre-
ferable to the most highly ornamented narrative.
Where we see that a man has the power, we may

PREFACE. XI

naturally suspect that he has the will to deceive us ;
and those who are used to literary manufacture know
how much is often sacrificed to the rounding of a
period, or the pointing of an antithesis.

That the ignorant may have their prejudices as
well as the learned cannot be disputed ; but we see
and despise vulgar errors : we never bow to the
authority of him who has no great name to sanction
his absurdities. The partiality which blinds a bio-
grapher to the defects of his hero, in proportion as
it is gross, ceases to be dangerous ; but if it be con-
cealed by the appearance of candour, which men of
great abilities best know how to assume, it endangers
our judgment sometimes, and sometimes our morals.
If her grace the duchess of Newcastle, instead of
penning her lord's elaborate eulogium, had under-
taken to write the life of Savage, we should not have
been in any danger of mistaking an idle, ungrateful
libertine for a man of genius and virtue. The talents
of a biographer are often fatal to his reader. For
these reasons the public often judiciously countenance
those, who, without sagacity to discriminate cha-
racter, without elegance of style to relieve the tedi-
ousness of narrative, without enlargement of mind
to draw any conclusions from the facts they relate,
simply pour forth anecdotes, and retail conversations,
with all the minute prolixity of a gossip in a country
town.

The author of the following Memoirs has upon
these grounds fair claims to the public favour and
attention; he was an illiterate old steward, whose

Xll .PREFACE.

partiality to the family, in which he was bred and
born, must be obvious to the reader. He tells the
history of the Rackrent family in his vernacular
idiom, and in the full confidence that sir Patrick,
sir Murtagh, sir Kit, and sir Condy Rackrent's
affairs will be as interesting to all the world as they
were to himself. Those who were acquainted with
the manners of a certain class of the gentry of Ire-
land some years ago will want no evidence of the
truth of honest Thady's narrative : to those who are
totally unacquainted with Ireland, the following
Memoirs will perhaps be scarcely intelligible, or
probably they may appear perfectly incredible. For
the information of the ignorant English reader, a
few notes have been subjoined by the editor, and he
had it once in contemplation to translate the lan-
guage of Thady into plain English ; but Thady's
idiom is incapable of translation, and, besides, the
authenticity of his story would have been more ex-
posed to doubt if it were not told in his own cha-
racteristic manner. Several years ago he related to
the editor the history of the Rackrent family, and it
was with some difficulty that he was persuaded to
have it committed to \vriting ; however, his feelings
for " the honour of the family," as he expressed him-
self, prevailed over his habitual laziness, and he at
length completed the narrative which is now laid
before the public.

The editor hopes his readers will observe that these
are "tales of other times:" that the manners de-
picted in the following pages are not those of the

PREFACE. Xlll

present age : the race of the Rackrents has long
since been extinct in Ireland ; and the drunken sir
Patrick, the litigious sir Murtagh, the fighting sir
Kit, and the slovenly sir Condy, are characters
which could no more be met with at present in Ire-
land, than squire Western or parson Trulliber in
England. There is a time, when individuals can
bear to be rallied for their past follies and absurdi-
ties, after they have acquired new habits, and a new
consciousness. Nations as well as individuals gra-
dually lose attachment to their identity, and the
present generation is amused rather than offended
by the ridicule that is thrown upon its ancestors.

Probably we shall soon have it in our power, in
a hundred instances, to verify the truth of these
observations.

When Ireland loses her identity by an union with
Great Britain, she will look back with a smile of
good-humoured complacency on the sii Kits and sir
Condys of her former existence.

1800.

CASTLE RACKRENT;

AV

HIBERNIAN TALE.

TAKEN FROM FACTS,
AND FROM

THE MANNERS OF THE IRISH SQUIRES

BEFORE THE YEAR 1782.

CASTLE RACKRENT.

Monday Morning.

HAVING, out of friendship for the family, upon
whose estate, praised be Heaven ! I and mine have
lived rent-free, time out of mind, voluntarily under-
taken to publish the MEMOIRS of the RACKRENT
FAMILY, I think it my duty to say a few words, in
the first place, concerning myself. My real name is
Thady Quirk, though in the family I have always
been known by no other than " honest Thady," —
afterwards, in the time of sir Murtagh, deceased,
I remember to hear them calling me " old Thady,"
and now I'm come to " poor Thady ;" for I wear a
long great coat* winter and summer, which is very

* The cloak, or mantle, as described by Thady, is of high
antiquity. Spencer, in his " View of the State of Ireland,"
proves that it is not, as some have imagined, peculiarly derived
from the Scythians, but that " most nations of the world
anciently used the mantle ; for the Jews used it, as you may
read of Elias's mantle, &.c. ; the Chaldees also used it, as you
may read in Diodorus ; the Egyptians likewise used it, as you
may read in Herodotus, and may be gathered by the description
of Berenice, in the Greek Commentary upon Callimachus ; the
Greeks also used it anciently, as appeared by Venus's mantle
lined with stars, though afterwards they changed the form
B *

2 CASTLE RACKRENT.

handy, as I never put my arms into the sleeves ;
they are as good as new, though come Holantide
next I've had it these seven years ; it holds on by a
single button round my neck, cloak fashion. To look
at me, you would hardly think "poor Thady" was

thereof into their cloaks, called Pallai, as some of the Irish also
use : and the ancient Latins and Romans used it, as you may
read in Virgil, who was a very great antiquary, that Evander,
when -^neas came to him at his feast, did entertain and feast
him sitting on the ground, and lying on mantles : insomuch that
he useth the very word mantile for a mantle,

' — — II umi mantilia sternunt : '

so that it seemeth that the mantle was a general habit to most
nations, and not proper to the Scythians only."

Spencer knew the convenience of the said mantle, as housing,
bedding, and clothing.

" Iren. Because the commodity doth not countervail the dis-
commodity ; for the inconveniences which thereby do arise are
much more many ; for it is a fit house for an outlaw, a meet bed
for a rebel, and an apt cloak for a thief. First, the outlaw
being for his many crimes and villanies, banished from the towns
and houses of honest men, and wandering in wastes places, far
from danger of law, maketh his mantle his house, and under it
covereth himself from the wrath of Heaven, from the offence of
the earth, and from the sight of men. When it raineth, it is
his pent-house ; when it bloweth, it is his tent ; when it freezeth
it is his tabernacle. In summer he can wear it loose ; in winter
he can wrap it close ; at all times he can use it ; never heavy,
never cumbersome. Likewise for a rebel it is as serviceable ;
for in this war that he maketh (if at least it deserves the name
of war), when he still flieth from his foe, and lurketh in the
thick woods (this should be black bogs) and straight passages
waiting for advantages, it is his bed, yea, and almost his house-
hold stuff."

CASTLE RACKRENT. 3

the father of attorney Quirk ; he is a high gentle-
man, and never minds what poor Thady says, and
having better than fifteen hundred a year, landed
estate, looks down upon honest Thady ; but I wash
my hands of his doings, and as I have lived so will I
die, true and loyal to the family. The family of the
Rackrents is, I am proud to say, one of the most
ancient in the kingdom. Every body knows this is
not the old family name, which was O'Shaughlin, re-
lated to the kings of Ireland — but that was before
my time. My grandfather was driver to the great
sir Patrick O'Shaughlin, and I heard him, when I
was a boy, telling how the Castle Rackrent estate
came to sir Patrick ; Sir Tallyhoo Rackrent was
cousin-german to him, and had a fine estate of his
own, only never a gate upon it, it being his maxim
that a car was the best gate. Poor gentleman ! he
lost a fine hunter and his life, at last, by it, all in
one day's hunt. But I ought to bless that day, for
the estate came straight into the family, upon one
condition, which Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin at the
time took sadly to heart, they say, but thought
better of it afterwards, seeing how large a stake de-
pended upon it, that he should by act of parliament,
take and bear the surname and arms of Rackrent.

Now it was that the world was to see what was in
sir Patrick. On coming into the estate, he gave
the finest entertainment ever was heard of in the
country : not a man could stand after supper but sir
Patrick himself, who could sit out the best man in
Ireland, let alone the three kingdoms itself. He
u2

CASTLE RACKRENT.

had his house, from one year's end to another, as full
of company as ever it could hold, and fuller ; for
rather than be left out of the parties at Castle Rack-
rent, many gentlemen, and those men of the first
consequence and landed estates in the country, such
as the O'Neils of Ballynagrotty, and the Money-
gawl's of Mount Juliet's Town, and O' Shannons of
New Town Tullyhog, made it their choice, often and
often, when there was no room to be had for love nor
money, in long winter nights, to sleep in the chicken-
house, which sir Patrick had fitted up for the pur-
pose of accommodating his friends and the public in
general, who honoured him with their company un-
expectedly at Castle Rackrent ; and this went on, I
can't tell you how long — the whole country rang
with his praises ! — Long life to him ! I'm sure I love
to look upon his picture, now opposite to me ; though
I never saw him, he must have been a portly gentle-
man— his neck something short, and remarkable for
the largest pimple on his nose, which, by his .par-
ticular desire, is still extant in his picture, said to
be a striking likeness, though taken when young.
He is said also to be the inventor of raspberry
whiskey, which is very likely, as nobody has ever
appeared to dispute it with him, and as there still
exists a broken punch-bowl at Castle Rackrent, in
the garret, with an inscription to that effect — a
great curiosity. • A few days before his death he was
very merry ; it being his honour's birth-day, he
called my grandfather in, God bless him ! to drink
the company's health, and filled a bumper himself,

CASTLE RACKRENT. 5

but could not carry it to his head, on account of the
great shake in his hand ; on this he cast his joke,
saying, " What would my poor father say to me if
he was to pop out of the grave, and see me now ?
I remember when I was a little boy, the first bumper
of claret he gave me after dinner, how he praised me
for carrying it so steady to my mouth. Here's my
thanks to him — a bumper toast." Then he fell to
singing the favourite song he learned from his father
— for the last time, poor gentleman — he sung it that
night as loud and as hearty as ever with a chorus :

" He that goes to bed, and goes to bed sober,

Falls as the leaves do, falls as the leaves do, and dies in Oc-
tober ;

But he that goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow,

Lives as he ought to do, lives as he ought to do, and dies
an honest fellow."

Sir Patrick died that night : just as the company
rose to drink his health with three cheers, he fell
down in a sort of fit, and was carried off; they sat
it out, and were surprised, on inquiry, in the morn-
ing, to find that it was all over with poor sir Patrick.
Never did any gentleman live and die more beloved
in the country by rich and poor. His funeral was
such a one as was never known before or since in the
county ! All the gentlemen in the three counties
were at it ; far and near, how they flocked : my
great grandfather said, that to see all the women
even in their red cloaks, you would have taken them
for the army drawn out. Then such a fine whilla-
luh ! you might have heard it to the farthest end of

6 CASTLE RACKRENT.

the county, and happy the man who could get but a
sight of the hearse ! But who'd have thought it ?
just as all was going on right, through his own
town they were passing, when the body was seized
for debt — a rescue was apprehended from the mob ;
but the heir who attended the funeral was against
that, for fear of consequences, seeing that those
villains who came to serve acted under the disguise
of the law : so, to be sure, the law must take its
course, and little gain had the creditors for their
pains. First and foremost, they had the curses of
the country: and sir Murtagh Rackrent, the new
heir, in the next place, on account of this affront to
the body, refused to pay a shilling of the debts, in
which he was countenanced by all the best gentle-
men of property, and others of his acquaintance ;
sir Murtagh alleging in all companies, that he all
along meant to pay his father's debts of honour, but
the moment the law was taken of him, there was an
end of honour to be sure. It was whispered (but
none but the enemies of the family believe it), that
this was all a sham seizure to get quit of the debts,
which he had bound himself to pay in honour.

It's a long time ago, there's no saying how it was,
but this for certain, the new man did not take at
all after the old gentleman ; the cellars were never
filled after his death, and no open house, or any
thing as it used to be ; the tenants even were sent
away without their whiskey. I was ashamed myself,
and knew not what to say for the honour of the
family ; but I made the best of a bad case, and laid

• CASTLE RACKRENT. 7

it all at my lady's door, for I did not like her any
how, nor any body else ; she was of the family of the
Skinflints, and a widow ; it was a strange match for
sir Murtagh ; the people in the country thought he
demeaned himself greatly, but I said nothing : I
knew how it was ; sir Murtagh was a great lawyer,
and looked to the great Skinflint estate ; there, how-
ever, he overshot himself; for though one of the co-
heiresses, he was never the better for her, for she
outlived him many's the long day — he could not see
that to be sure when he married her. I must say
for her, she made him the best of wives, being a
very notable stirring woman, and looking close to
every thing. But I always suspected she had Scotch
blood in her veins ; any thing else I could have
looked over in her from a regard to the family. She
was a strict observer for self and servants of
Lent, and all fast days, but not holidays. One of
the maids having fainted three times the last day of
Lent, to keep soul and body together, we put a
morsel of roast beef into her mouth, which came
from sir Murtagh's dinner, who never fasted, not
he ; but somehow or other it unfortunately reached
my lady's ears, and the priest of the parish had a
complaint made of it the next day, and the poor girl
was forced as soon as she could walk to do penance
for it, before she could get any peace or absolution,
in the house or out of it. However, my lady was
very charitable in her own way. She had a charity
school for poor children, where they were taught to
read and write gratis, and where they were kept well

CASTLE RACKRENT.

to spinning gratis for my lady in return ; for she
had always heaps of duty yarn from the tenants,
and got all her household linen out of the estate
from first to last ; for after the spinning, the weavers
on the estate took it in hand for nothing, because of
the looms my lady's interest could get from the
Linen Board to distribute gratis. Then there was
a bleach-yard near us, and the tenant dare refuse
my lady nothing, for fear of a law-suit sir Murtagh
kept hanging over him about the water-course.
With these ways of managing, 'tis surprising how
cheap my lady got things done, and how proiid she
was of it. Her table the same way, kept for
next to nothing; duty fowls, and duty turkies, and
duty geese, came as fast as we could eat 'em, for my
lady kept a sharp look-out, and knew to a tub of
butter every thing the tenants had, all round. They
knew her way, and what with fear of driving for
rent and sir Murtagh 's lawsuits, they were kept in
such good order, they never thought of coming near
Castle Rackrent without a present of something or
other — nothing too much or too little for my lady —
eggs, honey, butter, meal, fish, game, grouse, and
herrings, fresh or salt, all went for something. As
for their young pigs, we had them, and the best
bacon and hams they could make up, with all young
chickens in spring ; but they were a set of poor
wretches, and we had nothing but misfortunes with
them, always breaking and running away. This.,
sir Murtagh and my lady said, M'as all their former
landlord sir Patrick's fault, who let 'em all get the

CASTLE RACKHENT. 9

half year's rent into arrear ; there was something in
that to be sure. But sir Murtagh was as much the
contrary way ; for let alone making English tenants
of them, every soul, he was always driving and
driving, and pounding and pounding, and canting
and canting, and replevying and replevying, and he
made a good living of trespassing cattle ; there was
always some tenant's pig, or horse, or cow, or calf, or
goose, trespassing, which was so great a gain to sir
Murtagh, that he did not like to hear me talk of re-
pairing fences. Then his heriots and duty-work
brought him in something, his turf was cut, his po-
tatoes set and dug, his hay brought home, and, in
short, all the work about his house done for nothing;
for in all our leases there were strict clauses heavy
with penalties, which sir Murtagh knew well how
to enforce ; so many days' duty work of man and
horse, from every tenant, he was to have, and
had, every year ; and when a man vexed him, why
the finest day he could pitch on, when the cratur
was getting in his own harvest, or thatching his
cabin, sir Murtagh made it a principle to call upon
him and his horse ; so he taught 'em all, as he said,
to know the law of landlord and tenant. As for law,
I believe no man, dead or alive, ever loved it so well
as sir Murtagh. He had once sixteen suits pending
at a time, and I never saw him so much himself;
roads, lanes, bogs, wells, ponds, eel-wires, orchards,
trees, tithes, vagrants, gravelpits, sandpits, dung-
hills, and nuisances, every thing upon the face of the
earth furnished him good matter for a suit. He

10 CASTLE RACKRENT.

used to boast that he had a lawsuit for every letter
in the alphabet. How I used to wonder to see sir
Murtagh in the midst of the papers in his office !
Why he could hardly turn about for them. I made
bold to shrug my shoulders once in his presence, and
thanked my stars I was not born a gentleman to so
much toil and trouble ; but sir Murtagh took me up
short with his old proverb, " learning is better than
house or land." Out of forty-nine suits which he
had, he never lost one but seventeen ; the rest he
gained with costs, double costs, treble costs some-
times ; but even that did not pay. He was a very
learned man in the law, and had the character of it ;
but how it was I can't tell, these suits that he carried
cost him a power of money ; in the end he sold some
hundreds a year of the family estate ; but he was a
very learned man in the law, and I know nothing of
the matter, except having a great regard for the
family ; and I could not help grieving when he sent
me to post up notices of the sale of the fee-simple of
the lands and appurtenances of Timoleague. " I
know, honest Thady," says he, to comfort me,
" what I'm about better than you do ; I'm only
selling to get the ready money wanting to carry on
my suit with spirit with the Nugents of Carrick-
ashaughlin."

He was very sanguine about that suit with the
Nugents of Carrickashaughlin. He could have
gained it, they say, for certain, had it pleased Heaven
to have spared him to us, and it would have been at
the least a plump two thousand a year in his way ;

CASTLE RACKRENT. 11

but things were ordered otherwise, for the best to be
sure. He dug up a fairy-mount* against my advice,
and had no luck afterwards. Though a learned man
in the law, he was a little too incredulous in other
matters. I warned him that I heard the very Ban-
sheet that my grandfather heard under sir Patrick's
window a few days before his death. But sir Murtagh
thought nothing of the Banshee, nor of his cough with
a spitting of blood, brought on, I understand, by
catching cold in attending the courts, and overstrain-
ing his chest with making himself heard in one of his
favourite causes. He was a great speaker with a
powerful voice ; but his last speech was not in the
courts at all. He and my lady, though both of the
same way of thinking in some things, and though she
was as good a wife and great economist as you could

* These fairy-mounts are called ant-hills in England. They
are held in high reverence by the common people in Ireland. A
gentlemen, who in laying out his lawn had occasion to level one
of these hillocks, could not prevail upon any of his labourers to
begin the ominous work. He was obliged to take a loy from one
of their reluctant hands, and began the attack himself. The
labourers agreed, that the vengeance of the fairies would fall
upon the head of the presumptuous mortal, who first disturbed
them in their retreat.

•f The Banshee is a species of aristocratic fairy, who, in the
shape of a little hideous old woman, has been known to appear,
and heard to sing in a mournful supernatural voice under the
windows of great houses, to warn the family that some of them
are soon to die. In the last century every great family in Ireland
had a Banshee, who attended regularly ; but latterly their visits
and songs have been discontinued.

12 CASTLE RACKRENT.

see, and he the best of husbands, as to looking into
his affairs, and making money for his family ; yet I
don't know how it was, they had a great deal of
sparring and jarring between them. My lady had
her privy purse — and she had her weed ashes, and
her sealing money upon the signing of all the leases,
with something to buy gloves besides ; and, besides,
again often took money from the tenants, if offered
properly, to speak for them to sir Murtagh about
abatements and renewals. Now the weed ashes and
the glove money he allowed her clear perquisites ;
though once when he saw her in a new gown saved
out of the weed ashes, he told her to my face (for he
could say a sharp thing,) that she should not put on
her weeds before her husband's death. But in a
dispute about an abatement, my lady would have the
last word, and sir Murtagh grew mad ; I was within
hearing of the door, and now I wish I had made bold
to step in. He spoke so loud, the whole kitchen was
out on the stairs. All on a sudden he stopped and
my lady too. Something has surely happened,
thought I — and so it was, for sir Murtagh in his
passion broke a blood-vessel, and all the law in the
land could* do nothing in that case. My lady sent
for five physicians, but sir Murtagh died, and was
buried. She had a fine jointure settled upon her,
and took herself away to the great joy of the tenantry.
I never said any thing one way or the other, whilst
she was part of the family, but got up to see her go
at three o'clock in the morning. " It's a fine
morning, honest Thady," says she ; " good bye to

CASTLE RACKRENT. 13

ye," and into the carriage she stept, without a word
more, good or bad, or even half a crown ; but I made
my bow, and stood to see her safe out of sight for
the sake of the family.

Then we were all bustle in the house, which made
me keep out of the way, for I walk slow and hate a
bustle; but the house was all hurry-skurry, preparing
for my new master. Sir Murtagh, I forgot to notice,
had no childer ;* so the Rackrent estate went to his
younger brother, a young dashing officer, who came
amongst us before I knew for the life of me where-
abouts I was, in a gig or some of them things, with
another spark along with him, and led horses, and
servants, and dogs, and scarce a place to put any
Christian of them into ; for my late lady had sent all
the feather-beds off before her, and blankets and
household linen, down to the very knife cloths, on
the cars to Dublin, which were all her own, lawfully
paid for out of fier own money. So the house was
quite bare, and my young master, the moment ever
he set foot in it out of his gig, thought all those
things must come of themselves, I believe, for he
never looked after any thing at all, but harum-
scarum called for every thing as if we were conjurers,
or he in a public-house. For my part, I could not
bestir myself any how ; I had been so much used to
my late mas'ter and mistress, all was upside down
with me, and the new servants in the servants' hall

* Childer: this is the manner in which many of/Thady's
rank, and others in Ireland, formerly pronounced the word
children.

14 CASTLE RACKRENT.

were quite out of my way ; I had nobody to talk to-
and if it had not been for my pipe and tobacco,
should, I verily believe, have broke my heart for poor
sir Murtagh.

But one morning my new master caught a glimpse
of me as I was looking at his horse's heels, in hopes
of a word from him. " And is that old Thady?"
says he, as he got into his gig: I loved him from that
day to this, his voice was so like the family ; and he
threw me a guinea out of his waistcoat pocket, as he
drew up the reins with the other hand, his horse
rearing too ; I thought I never set my eyes on a finer
figure of a man, quite another sort from sir Murtagh,
though withal, to me, a family likeness. A fine life we
should have led, had he staid amongst us, God bless
him ! He valued a guinea as little as any man :
money to him was no more than dirt, and his gentle-
man and groom, and all belonging to him, the same ;
but the sporting season over, he grew tired of the
place, and having got down a great architect for the
house, and an improver for the grounds, and seen
their plans and elevations, he fixed a day for settling
with the tenants, but went off in a whirlwind to
town, just as some of them came into the yard in
the morning. A circular letter came next post from
the new agent, with news that the master was sailed
for England, and he must remit 500/. to Bath for his
use before a fortnight was at an end ; bad news still
for the poor tenants, no change still for the better
with them. Sir Kit Rackrent, my young master, left
all to the agent ; and though he had the spirit of a

CASTLE RACKRENT. 15

prince, and lived away to the honour of his country
abroad, which I was proud to hear of, what were we
the better for that at home ? The agent was one of
your middle men,* who grind the face of the poor,
and can never bear a man with a hat upon his head :
he ferretted the tenants out of their lives; not a week
without a call for money, drafts upon drafts from
sir Kit ; but I laid it all to the fault of the agent ;
for, says I, what can sir Kit do with so much cash,
and he a single man? but still it went. Rents must
be all paid up to the day, and afore ; no allowance for

* Middle men.— There was a class of men termed middle men
in Ireland, who took large farms on long leases from gentlemen
of landed property, and set the land again in small portions to
the poor, as under-tenants, at exorbitant rents. The head land-
lord, as he was called, seldom saw his under-tenants ; but if he
could not get the middle man to pay him his rent punctually, he
•went to his land, and drove the land for his rent, that is to say,
he sent his steward or bailiff, or driver, to the land to seize the
cattle, hay, corn, flax, oats, or potatoes, belonging to the under-
tenants, and proceeded to sell these for his rents : it sometimes
happened that these unfortunate tenants paid their rent twice over,
once to the middle man, and once to the head landlord.

The characteristics of a middle man loere, servility to his su-
periors, and tyranny towards his inferiors : the poor detested this
race of beings. In speaking to them, however, they always used
the most abject language, and the most humble tone and posture.
— " Please your honour ; and phase your honour's honour,"
they knew must be repeated as a charm at the beginning and end
of every equivocating, exculpatory, or supplicatory sentence ; and
they were much more alert in doffing their caps to these new
men, than to those of what they call good old families. A witty
carpenter once termed these middle men journeymen gentlemen.

ID CASTLE RACKRENT.

improving tenants, no consideration for those who
had built upon their farms : no sooner was a lease
out, but the land was advertised to the highest
bidder, all the old tenants turned out, when they
spent their substance in the hope and trust of a
renewal from the landlord. All was now set at the
highest penny to a parcel of poor wretches, who
meant to run away, and did so, after taking two
crops out of the ground. Then fining down the
year's rent came into fashion ; any thing for the ready
penny ; and with all this, and presents to the agent
and the driver, there was no such thing as standing
it. I said nothing, for I had a regard for the family;
but I walked about thinking if his honour sir Kit
knew all this, it would go hard with him, but he'd
see us righted ; not that I had any thing for my own
share to complain of, for the agent was always very
civil to me, when he came down into the country,
and took a great deal of notice of my son Jason.
Jason Quirk, though he be my son, I must say, was
a good scholar from his birth, and a very 'cute lad :
I thought to make him a priest, but he did better for
himself: seeing how he was as good a clerk as any in
the county, the agent gave him his rent accounts to
copy, which he did first of all for the pleasure of
obliging the gentleman, and would take nothing at
all for his trouble, but was always proud to serve the
family. By-and-bye a good farm boxmding us to the
east fell into his honour's hands, and my son put in
a proposal for it : why shouldn't he, as well as
another ? The proposals all went over to the master

CASTLE KACKKENT. 17

at the Bath, who knowing no more of the land than
the child unborn, only having once been out a
grousing on it before he went to England ; and the
value of lands, as the agent informed him, falling
every year in Ireland, his honour wrote over in all
haste a bit of a letter, saying he left it all to the
agent, and that he must set it as well as he could to
the best bidder, to be sure, and send him over 2001.
by return of post : with this the agent gave me a
hint, and I spoke a good word for my son, and gave
out in the country that nobody need bid against us.
So his proposal was just the thing, and he a good
tenant ; and he got a promise of an abatement in the
rent, after the first year, for advancing the half year's
rent at signing the lease, which was wanting to com-
plete the agent's 2001., by the return of the post,
with all which my master wrote back he was well
satisfied. About this time we learned from the agent
as a great secret, how the money went so fast, and
the reason of the thick coming of the master's drafts:
he was a litle too fond of play ; and Bath, they say,
was no place for a young man of his fortune, where
there were so many of his own countrymen too
hunting him up and down, day and night, who had
nothing to lose. At last, at Christmas, the agent
wrote over to stop the drafts, for he could raise no
more money on bond or mortgage, or from the
tenants, or any how, nor had he any more to lend
himself, and desired at the same time to decline the
agency for the future, wishing sir Kit his health and
happiness, and the compliments of the season, for I
c i

18 CASTLE RACKRENT.

saw the letter before ever it was sealed, when my son
copied it. When the answer came, there was a new
turn in affairs, and the agent was turned out; and my
son Jason, who had corresponded privately with his
honour occasionally on business, was forthwith desired
by his honour to take the accounts into his own
hands, and look them over till further orders. It
was a very spirited letter to be sure : sir Kit sent his
service, and the compliments of the season, in return
to the agent, and he would fight him with pleasure
to-morrow, or any day, for sending him such a letter,
if he was born a gentleman, which he was sorry (for
both their sakes) to find (too late) he was not.
Then, in a private postscript, he condescended to tell
us, that all would be speedily settled to his satis-
faction, and we should turn over a new leaf, for he
was going to be married in a fortnight to the grandest
heiress in England, and had only immediate occasion
at present for 200/., as he would not choose to touch
his lady's fortune for travelling expences home to
Castle Rackrent, where lie intended to be, wind and
weather permitting, early in the next month ; and
desired fires, and the house to be painted, and the
new building to go on as fast as possible, for the
reception of him and his lady before that time ; M'ith
several words besides in the letter, which we could
not make out, because, God bless him ! he wrote in
such a flurry. My heart warmed to my new lady
when I read this ; I was almost afraid it was too
good news to be true ; but the girls fell to scouring,
and it was well they did, for M'e soon saw his mar-

CASTLE RACKRENT. ]9

riage in the paper to a lady with I don't know how
many tens of thousand pounds to her fortune : then
I watched the post-office for his landing ; and the
news came to my son of his and the bride being in
Dublin, and on the way home to Castle Rackrent.
We had bonfires all over the country, expecting him
down the next day, and we had his coming of age
still to celebrate, which he had not time to do pro-
perly before he left the country ; therefore a great
ball was expected, and great doings upon his coming,
as it were, fresh to take possession of his ancestors'
estate. I never shall forget the day he came home :
we had waited and waited all day long till eleven
o'clock at night, and I was thinking of sending the
boy to lock the gates, and giving them up for that
night, \vhen there came the carriages thundering up
to the great hall door. I got the first sight of the
bride ; for Avhen the carriage door opened, just as she
had her foot on the steps, I held the flam full in her
face to light her, at which she shut her eyes, but I
had a full view of the rest of her, and greatly shocked
I was, for by that light she was little better than a
blackamoor, and seemed crippled, but that was only
sitting so long in the chariot. " You're kindly wel-
come to Castle Rackrent, my lady," says I (recol-
lecting who she was) ; " did your honour hear of the
bonfires ? " His honour spoke never a word, nor so
much as handed her up the steps — he looked to me
no more like himself thari nothing at all ; I know I
took him for the skeleton of his honour : I was not
sure what to say next to one or t'other, but seeing
c2

iJU CASTLE RACKHENT.

she was a stranger in a foreign country, I thought it
but right to speak cheerful to her, so I went back
again to the bonfires. " My lady/' says I, as she
crossed the hall, " there would have been fifty times
as many, but for fear of the horses and frightening
your ladyship : Jason and I forbid them, please your
honour." With that she looked at me a little be-
wildered. " Will I have a fire lighted in the state
room to-night ? " was the next question I put to her,
but never a word she answered, so I concluded she
could not speak a word of English, and was from
foreign parts. The short and the long of it was I
couldn't tell what to make of her ; so I left her to
herself, and went straight down to the servants' hall
to learn something for certain about her. Sir Kit's
own man was tired, but the groom set him a talking at
last, and we had it all out before ever I closed my eyes
that night. The bride might well be a great fortune
— she was a Jewish by all accounts, who are famous
for their great riches. I had never seen any of that
tribe or nation before, and could only gather, that she
spoke a strange kind of English of her own, that she
could not abide pork or sausages, and went neither
to church or mass. Mercy upon his honour's poor
soul, thought I ; what will become of him and his, and
all of us, with his heretic blackamoor at the head of
the Castle Rackrent estate ! I never slept a wink
all night foi* thinking of it ; but before the servants
I put my pipe in my mouth, and kept my mind to
myself ; for I had a great regard for the family ;
and after this, when strange gentlemen's servants

CASTLE BACKRENT. 21

came to the house, and would begin to talk about
the bride, I took care to put the best foot foremost,
and passed her for a nabob in the kitchen, which ac-
counted for her dark complexion and every thing.

The very morning after they came home, however,
I saw how things were plain enough between Sir Kit
and my lady, though they were walking together
arm in arm after breakfast, looking at the new build-
ing and the improvements. " Old Thady," said my
master, just as he used to do, " how do you do?"
" Very well, I thank your honour's honour," said I ;
but I saw he was not well pleased, and my heart was
in my mouth as I walked along after him. " Is the
large room damp, Thady ? " said his honour. " Oh,
damp, your honour ! how should it but be as dry as
a bone," says I, " after all the fires we have kept in
it day and night? it's the barrack room your honour's
talking on." " And what is a barrack-room, pray,
my dear ? " were the first words I ever heard out of
my lady's lips. " No matter, my dear ! " said he, and
went on talking to me, ashamed like I should wit-
ness her ignorance. To be sure, to hear her talk
one might have taken her for an innocent, for it was,
"what's this, sir Kit? and what's that, sir Kit?"
all the way we went. To be sure, sir Kit had
enough to do to answer her. " And what do you
call that, sir Kit ? " said she, " that, that looks like
a pile of black bricks, pray, sir Kit ? " " My turf
stack, my dear," said my master, and bit his lip.
Where have you lived, my lady, all your life, not to
know a turf stack when you see it, thought I, but I

&Z CASTLE RACKRENT.

said nothing. Then, by-and-bye, she takes out her
glass, and begins spying over the country. " And
what's all that black swamp out yonder, sir Kit ? "
says she. " My bog, my dear," says he, and went on
whistling. " It's a very ugly prospect, my dear,"
says she. " You don't see it, my dear," says he,
" for we've planted it out, when the trees grow up
in summer time," says he. " Where are the trees,"
said she, " my dear ?" still looking through her glass.
" You are blind," my dear, says he ; " what are these
under your eyes?" " These shrubs," said she.
" Trees," said he. " May be they are what you call
trees in Ireland, my dear," said she ; " but they are
not a yard high, are they ?" " They were planted
out but last year, my lady," says I, to soften matters
between them, for I saw she was going the way to
make his honour mad with her ? " they are very well
grown for their age, and you'll not see the bog of
Allyballycarricko'shaughlin at-all-at-all through the
skreen, when once the leaves come out. But, my
lady, you must not quarrel with any part or parcel of
Allyballycarricko'shaughlin, for you don't know how
many hundred years that same bit of bog has been
in the family ; we would not part with the bog of
Allyballycarricko'shaughlin upon no account at all ; it
cost the late Sir Murtagh two hundred good pounds
to defend his title to it and boundaries against the
O'Leary's, who cut a road through it." Now one
would have thought this would have been hint
enough foi my lady, but she fell to laughing like one
out of their right mind, and made me say the name

CASTLE RACKBENT. 23

of the bog over for her to get it by heart, a dozen times
— then she must ask me how to spell it, and what
was the meaning of it in English — sir Kit standing
by whistling all the while ; I verily believed she laid
the corner stone of all her future misfortunes at that
very instant ; but I said no more, only looked at sir
Kit.

There were no balls, no dinners, no doings ; the
country was all disappointed — sir Kit's gentleman
said in a whisper to me, it was all my lady's own
fault, because she was so obstinate about the cross.
" What cross ? " says I ; "is it about her being a
heretic?" "Oh, no such matter," says he ; "my
master does not mind her heresies, but her diamond
cross, it's worth I can't tell you how much ; and she
has thousands of English pounds concealed in dia-
monds about her, which she as good as promised to
give up to my master before he married, but now she
won't part with any of them, and she must take the
consequences."

Her honey-moon, at least her Irish honey-moon,
was scarcely well over, when his honour one morning
said to me, " Thady, buy me a pig ! " and then
the sausages were ordered, and here was the first
open breaking-out of my lady's troubles. My lady
came down herself into the kitchen, to speak to the
cook about the sausages, and desired never to see
them more at her table. Now my master had or-
dered them, and my lady knew that. The cook took
my lady's part, because she never came down into
the kitchen, and \vas young and innocent in house-

24 CASTLE RACKRENT.

keeping, which raised her pity ; besides, said she, at
her own table, surely, my lady should order and dis-
order what she pleases ; but the cook soon changed
her note, for my master made it a principle to have
the sausages, and swore at her for a Jew herself, till
he drove her fairly out of the kitchen ; then, for fear
of her place, and because he threatened that my lady
should give her no discharge without the sausages,
she gave up, and from that day forward always sau-
sages, or bacon, or pig meat in some shape or other,
went up to table ; upon which my lady shut herself up
in her own room, and my master said she might stay
there, with an oath : and to make sure of her, he
turned the key in the door, and kept it ever after in
his pocket. We none of us ever saw or heard her
speak for seven years after that : * he carried her

* This part of the history of the Rackrent family can scarcely
be thought credible ; but in justice to honest Thady, it is hoped
the reader will recollect the history of the celebrated lady Cath-
cart's conjugal imprisonment. — The editor was acquainted with
colonel M'Guire, lady Cathcart's husband ; he has lately seen
and questioned the maid-servant who lived with colonel M'Guire
during the time of lady Cathcart's imprisonment. Her ladyship
was locked up in her own house for many years ; during which
period her husband was visited by the neighbouring gentry, and
it was his regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to
lady Cathcart, informing her that the company had the honour
to drink her ladyship's health, and begging to know whether
there was any thing at table that she would like to eat ? the
answer was always, " Lady Cathcart's compliments, and she has
every thing she wants." An instance of honesty in a poor Irish
woman deserves to be recorded : — Lady Cathcart had some
remarkably fine diamonds, which she had concealed from her

CASTLE HACKRENT. 25

dinner himself. Then his honour had a great deal
of company to dine with him, and balls in the house,
and was as gay and gallant, and as much himself as
before he was married ; and at dinner he always
drank my lady Rackrent's good health, and so did
the company, and he sent out always a servant, with
his compliments to my lady Rackrent, and the com-
pany was drinking her ladyship's health, and begged
to know if there was any thing at table he might

husband, and which she was anxious to get out of the house,
lest he should discover them. She had neither servant nor friend
to whom she could entrust them ; but she had observed a poor
beggar woman, who used to come to the house ; she spoke to her
from the window of the room in which she was confined ; the
woman promises to do what she desired, and lady Cathcart threw
a parcel, containing the jewels, to her. The poor woman carried
them to the person to whom they were directed ; and several
years afterwards, when lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, she
received her diamonds safely.

At colonel M'Guire's death her ladyship was released. The
editor, within this year, saw the gentleman who accompanied her
to England after her husband's death. When she first was told
of his death, she imagined that the news was not true, and that
it was told only with an intention of deceiving her. At his death
she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover her ; she wore a red
wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed stupified ; she
said that she scarcely knew one human creature from another ;
her imprisonment lasted above twenty years. These circum-
stances may appear strange to an English reader; but there is no
danger in the present times, that any individual should exercise
such tyranny as colonel M'Guire's with impunity, the power
being now all in the hands of government, and there being no
possibility of obtaining from parliament an act of indemnity for
any cruelties. '''•"

26 CASTLE RACKRENT.

send her ; and the man came back, after the sham
errand, with my lady Rackrent's compliments, and
she was very much obliged to sir Kit — she did not
wish for any thing, but drank the company's health.
The country, to be sure, talked and wondered at my
lady's being shut up, but nobody chose to interfere
or ask any impertinent questions, for they knew my
master was a man very apt to give a short answer
himself, and likely to call a man out for it afterwards ;
he was a famous shot ; had killed his man before
he came of age, and nobody scarce dared look at him
whilst at Bath. Sir Kit's character was so well
known in the country, that he lived in peace and
quietness ever after, and was a great favourite with
the ladies, especially when in process of time, in the
fifth year of her confinement, my lady Rackrentf ell
ill, and took entirely to her bed, and he gave out that
she was now skin and bone, and could not last
through the winter. In this he had two physicians'
opinions to back him (for now he called in two phy-
sicians for her), and tried all his arts to get the
diamond cross from her on her death-bed, and to get
her to make a will in his favour of her separate pos-
sessions ; but there she was too tough for him. He
used to swear at her behind her back, after kneeling
to her to her face, and call her in the presence of his
gentleman his stiff-necked Israelite, though before
he married her, that same gentleman told me he used
to call her (how he could bring it out, I don't know)
" my pretty Jessica ! " To be sure it must have been
hard for her to guess what sort of a husband he

CASTLE RACKRENT. 27

reckoned to make her. When she was lying, to all
expectation, on her death-bed of a broken heart, I
could not but pity her, though she was a Jewish ;
and considering too it was no fault of hers to be
taken with my master so young as she was at the Bath,
and so fine a gentleman as sir Kit was when he
courted her ; and considering too, after all they had
heard and seen of him as a husband, there were now
no less than three ladies in our county talked of for
his second wife, all at daggers drawn with each
other, as his gentleman swore, at the balls, for sir
Kit for their partner, — I could not but think them
bewitched ; but they all reasoned with themselves,
that sir Kit would make a good husband to any
Christian but a Jewish, I suppose, and especially as
he was now a reformed rake ; and it was not known
how my lady's fortune \vas settled in her will, nor
how the Castle Rackrent estate was all mortgaged,
and bonds out against him, for he was never cured
of his gaming tricks ; but that was the only fault he
had, God bless him.

My lady had a sort of fit, and it was given out she
was dead, by mistake : this brought things to a sad
crisis for my poor master, — one of the three ladies
showed his letters to her brother, and claimed his
promises, whilst another did the same. I don't men-
tion names. Sir Kit, in his defence, said he would
meet any man who dared to question his conduct, and
as to the ladies, they must settle it amongst them
who was to be his second, and his third, and his
fourth, whilst his first was still alive, to his morti-

Z» CASTLE RACKRENT.

fication and theirs. Upon this, as upon all former
occasions., he had the voice of the country with him,
on account of the great spirit and propriety he acted
with. He met and shot the first lady's brother ; the
next day he called out the second, who had a wooden
leg ; and their place of meeting by appointment being
in a new ploughed field, the wooden-leg man stuck
fast in it. Sir Kit, seeing his situation, with great
candour fired his pistol over his head ; upon which
the seconds interposed, and convinced the parties
there had been a slight misunderstanding between
them ; thereupon they shook hands cordially, and
went home to dinner together. This gentleman, to
show the world how they stood together, and by the
advice of the friends of both parties, to re-establish
his sister's injured reputation, went out with sir Kit
as his second, and carried his message next day to
the last of his adversaries : I never saw him in such
fine spirits as that day he went out — sure enough he
was within ames-ace of getting quit handsomely of all
his enemies ; but unluckily, after hitting the tooth
pick out of his adversary's finger and thumb, he
received a ball in a vital part, and was brought home,
in little betterthan an hour after the affair, speechless
on a hand-barrow, to my lady. We got the key out
of his pocket the first thing we did, and my son
Jason ran to unlock the barrack-room, where my lady
had been shut up for seven years, to acquaint her
with the fatal accident. The surprise bereaved her
of her senses at first, nor would she believe but we
were putting some new trick upon her, to entrap her

CASTLE RACKRENT. 29

out of her jewels, for a great while, till Jason be-
thought himself of taking her to the window, and
showed her the men bringing sir Kit up the avenue
upon the hand-barrow, which had immediately the
desired effect ; for directly she burst into tears, and
pulling her cross from her bosom, she kissed it with
as great devotion as ever I witnessed ; and lifting up
her eyes to heaven, uttered some ejaculation, which
none present heard ; but I take the sense of it to be,
she returned thanks for this unexpected interposition
in her favour when she had least reason to expect it.
My master was greatly lamented : there was no life
in him when we lifted him off the barrow, so he was
laid out immediately, and naked the same night.
The country was all in an uproar about him, and
not a soul but cried shame upon his murderer ; who
would have been hanged surely, if he could have
been brought to his trial, whilst the gentlemen in
the country were up about it ; but he very prudently
withdrew himself to the continent before the affair
was made public. As for the young lady, who was
the immediate cause of the fatal accident, however
innocently, she could never show her head after at
the balls in the county or any place ; and by the
advice of her friends and physicians, she was ordered
soon after to Bath, where it was expected, if any
where on this side of the grave, she would meet with
the recovery of her health and lost peace of mind.
Asa proof of his great popularity, I need only add,
that there was a song made upon my master's un-
timely death in the newspapers, which was in every

30 CASTLE RACKRENT.

body's mouth, singing up and down through the
country, even down to the mountains, only three
days after his unhappy exit. He was also greatly
bemoaned at the Curragh, where his cattle were well
known ; and all who had taken up his bets formerly
were particularly inconsolable for his loss to society.
His stud sold at the cant at the greatest price ever
known in the county ; his favourite horses were
chiefly disposed of amongst his particular friends,
who would give any price for them for his sake ; but
no ready money was required by the new heir, who
wished not to displease any of the gentlemen of the
neighbourhood just upon his coming to settle amongst
them ; so a long credit was given where requisite,
and the cash has never been gathered in from that
day to this.

But to return to my lady : — She got surprisingly
well after my master's decease. No sooner was it
known for certain that he was dead, than all the
gentlemen within twenty miles of us came in a
body, as it were, to set my lady at liberty, and to
protest against her confinement, which they now for
the first time understood was against her own con-
sent. The ladies too were as attentive as possible,
striving who should be foremost with their morning
visits ; and they that saw the diamonds spoke very
handsomely of them, but thought it a pity they were
not bestowed, if it had so pleased God, upon a lady
who would have become them better. All these
civilities wrought little with my lady, for she had
taken an unaccountable prejudice against the country,

CASTLE RACKRENT. 31

and every thing belonging to it, and was so partial
to her native land, that after parting with the cook,
which she did immediately upon my master's decease,
I never knew her easy one instant, night or day, but
when she was packing up to leave us. Had she
meant to make any stay in Ireland, I stood a great
chance of being a great favourite with her ; for
when she found I understood the weathercock, she
was always finding some pretence to be talking to
me, and asking me which way the wind blew, and
was it likely, did I think, to continue fair for
England. But when I saw she had made up her
mind to spend the rest of her days upon her own
income and jewels in England, I considered her quite
a£ a foreigner, and not at all any longer as part of
the family. She gave no vails to the servants at
Castle Rackrent at parting, notwithstanding the old
proverb of " as rich as a Jew," which, she being a
Jewish, they built upon with reason. But from first
to last she brought nothing but misfortunes amongst
us ; and if it had not been all along with her, his
honour, sir Kit, would have been now alive in all
appearance. Her diamond cross was, they say, at
the bottom of it all ; and it was a shame for her,
being his wife, not to show more duty, and to have
given it up when he condescended to ask so often for
such a bit of a trifle in his distresses, especially when
he all along made it no secret he married for money.
But we will not bestow another thought upon her.
This much I thought it lay upon my conscience to
say, in justice to my poor master's memory.

32 CASTLE RACKRENT.

Tis an ill wind that blows nobody no good — the
same wind that took the Jew lady Rackrent over to
England brought over the new heir to Castle Rack-
rent.

Here let me pause for breath in my story, for
though I had a great regard for every member of the
family, yet without compare sir Conolly, commonly
called, for short, amongst his friends, sir Condy
Rackrent, was ever my great favourite, and, indeed,
the most universally beloved man I had ever seen or
heard of, not excepting his great ancestor sir Patrick,
to whose memory he, amongst other instances of
generosity, erected a handsome marble stone in the
church of Castle Rackrent, setting forth in large
letters his age, birth, parentage, and many other
virtues, concluding with the compliment so justly
due, that " sir Patrick Rackrent lived and died a
monument of old Irish hospitality."

CONTINUATION OP THE MEMOIRS

OF THE

RACKRENT FAMILY.

HISTORY OF SIR CONOLLY RACKRENT.

SIR CONDY RACKRENT, by the grace of God heir
at law to the Castle Rackrent estate, was a remote
branch of the family : born to little or no fortune of
his own, he was bred to the bar ; at which, having
many friends to push him, and no mean natural
abilities of his own, he doubtless would, in process
of time, if he could have borne the drudgery of that
study, have been rapidly made king's counsel, at the
least ; but things were disposed of otherwise, and he
never went the circuit but twice, and then made no
figure for want of a fee, and being unable to speak
in public. He received his education chiefly in the
college of Dublin ; but before he came to years of
discretion lived in the country, in a small but slated
house, within view of the end of the avenue. I
remember him bare footed and headed, running
through the street of O'Shaughlin's town, and play-
ing at pitch and toss, ball, marbles, and what not,
with the boys of the town, amongst whom my son
Jason was a great favourite with him. As for me,
he was ever my white-headed boy : often's the time
D *

34 CASTLE RACKRENT.

when I would call in at his father's, where I was
always made welcome ; he would slip down to me in
the kitchen, and love to sit on my knee, whilst I told
him stories of the family, and the blood from which
he was sprung, and how he might look forward, if
the then present man should die without childer, to
being at the head of the Castle Rackrent estate.
This was then spoke quite and clear at random to
please the child, but it pleased Heaven to accomplish
my prophecy afterwards, which gave him a great
opinion of my judgment in business. He went to a
little grammar-school with many others, and my son
amongst the rest, who was in his class, and not a
little useful to him in his book learning, which he
acknowledged with gratitude ever after. These
rudiments of his education thus completed, he got a-
horseback, to which exercise he was ever addicted,
and used to gallop over the country while yet but a
slip of a boy, under the care of sir Kit's huntsman,
who was very fond of him, and often lent him his
gun, and took him out a-shooting under his own
eye. By these means he became well acquainted
and popular amongst the poor in the neighbourhood
early ; for there was not a cabin at which he had
not stopped some morning or other, along with the
huntsman, to drink a glass of burnt whiskey out of
an eggshell, to do him good and warm his heart, and
drive the cold out of his stomach. The old people
always told him he was a great likeness of sir
Patrick ; which made him first have an ambition to
take after him, as far as his fortune should allow.

CASTLE RACKRENT. 35

•He left us when of an age to enter the college, and
there completed his education and nineteenth year ;
for as he was not born to an estate, his friends
thought it incumbent on them to give him the best
education which could be had for love or money ;
and a great deal of money consequently was spent
upon him at college and Temple. He was a very
little altered for the worse by what he saw there of
the great world ; for when he came down into the
country, to pay us a visit, we thought him just the
same man as ever, hand and glove with every one,
and as far from high, though not without his own
proper share of family pride, as any man ever you
see. Latterly, seeing how sir Kit and the Jewish
lived together, and that there was no one between
him and the Castle Rackrent estate, he neglected to
apply to the law as much as was expected of him ;
and secretly many of the tenants, and others,
advanced him cash upon his note of hand value
received, promising bargains of leases and lawful
interest, should he ever come into the estate. All
this was kept a great secret, for fear the present
man, hearing of it, should take it into his head to
take it ill of poor Condy, and so should cut him off
for ever, by levying a fine, and suffering a recovery
to dock the entail. Sir Murtagh would have been
the man for that ; but sir Kit was too mucii taken
up philandering to consider the law in this case, or
any other. These practices I have mentioned, to
account for the state of his affairs, I mean sir Condy's,
upon his coming into the Castle Rackrent estate. He

D2

36 CASTLE RACKRENt.

could not command a penny of his first year's income;
which, and keeping no accounts, and the great sight
of company he did, with many other causes too nu-
merous to mention, was the origin of his distresses.
My son Jason, who was now established agent, and
knew every thing, explained matters out of the face
to sir Conolly, and made him sensible of his embar-
rassed situation. With a great nominal rent-roll,
it was almost all paid away in interest ; which being
for convenience suffered to run on, soon doubled the
principal, and sir Condy was obliged to pass new
bonds for the interest, now grown principal, and so
on. Whilst this was going on, my son requiring to
be paid for his trouble, and many years' service in the
family gratis, and sir Condy not willing to take his
affairs into his own hands, or to look them even in
the face, he gave my son a bargain of some acres,
which fell out of lease, at a reasonable rent. Jason
set the land, as soon as his lease was sealed, to under
tenants, to make the rent, and got two hundred a-
year profit rent ; which was little enough considering
his long agency. He bought the land at twelve
years' purchase two years afterwards, when sir Condy
was pushed for money on an execution, and was at
the same time allowed for his improvements thereon.
There was a sort of hunting-lodge upon the estate,
convenient to my son Jason's land, which he had his
eye upon about this time ; and he was a little jealous
of sir Condy, who talked of setting it to a stranger,
who was just come into the country — Captain Money-
gawl M~as the man. He was son and heir to the

CASTLE RACKRENT. 37

Moneygawls of Mount Juliet's town, who had a great
estate in the next county to ours ; and my master was
loth to disoblige the young gentleman, whose heart
was set upon the lodge ; so he wrote him back, that
the lodge was at his service, and if he would honour
him with his company at Castle Rackrent, they could
ride over together some morning, and look at it, be-
fore signing the lease. Accordingly the captain came
over to us, and he and sir Condy grew the greatest
friends ever you see, and were for ever out a-shooting
or hunting together, and were very merry in the
evenings; and sir Condy was invited of course to
Mount Juliet's town ; and the family intimacy that
had been in sir Patrick's time was now recollected,
and nothing would serve sir Condy but he must be
three times a- week at the least with his new friends,
which grieved me, who knew, by the captain's groom
and gentleman, how they talked of him at Mount
Juliet's town, making him quite, as one may say, a
laughingstock and a butt for the whole company ;
but they were soon cured of that by an accident that
surprised 'em not a little, as it did me. There was
a bit of a scrawl found upon the waiting-maid of old
Mr. Moneygawl's youngest daughter, miss Isabella,
that laid open the whole ; and her father, they say,
was like one out of his right mind, and swore it was
the last thing he ever should have thought of, when
he invited my master to his house, that his daughter
should think of such a match. But their talk signi-
fied not a straw, for, as miss Isabella's maid reported,
her young mistress was fallen over head and ears in

38 CASTLE HACKRENT.

love with sir Condy, from the first time that ever her
brother brought him into the house to dinner : the
servant who waited that day behind my master's
chair was the first who knew it, as he says ; though
it's hard to believe him, for he did not tell till a great
while afterwards ; but, however, it's likely enough,
as the thing turned out, that he was not far out of
the way; for towards the middle of dinner, as he says,
they were talking of stage-plays, having a playhouse,
and being great play-actors at Mount Juliet's town ;
and miss Isabella turns short to my master, and says,
" Have you seen the play-bill, sir Condy ? " " No>
I have not," said he. " Then more shame for you,"
said the captain her brother, " not to know that my
sister is to play Juliet to-night, who plays it better
than any woman on or off the stage in all Ireland."
" I am very happy to hear it," said sir Condy ; and
there the matter dropped for the present. But sir
Condy all this time, and a great while afterwards,
was at a terrible nonplus ; for he had no liking, not
he, to stage-plays, nor to miss Isabella either ; to his
mind, as it came out over a bowl of whiskey punch
at home, his little Judy M 'Quirk, who was daughter
to a sister's son of mine, was worth twenty of miss
Isabella. He had seen her often when he stopped at
her father's cabin to drink whiskey out of the egg-
shell, out hunting, before he came to the estate, and,
as she gave out, was under something like a pro-
mise of marriage to her. Any how, I could not but
pity my poor master, who was so bothered between
them, and he an easy-hearted man, that could not

CASTLE RACKRENT. 39

disoblige nobody, God bless him ! To be sure, it was
not his place to behave ungenerous to miss Isabella,
who had disobliged all her relations for his sake, as
he remarked ; and then she was locked up in her
chamber, and forbid to think of him any more, whir.h
raised his spirit, because his family was, as he ob-
served, as good as theirs at any rate, and the Rack-
rents a suitable match for the Moneygawls any day
in the year : all which was true enough ; but it
grieved me to see, that upon the strength of all this,
sir Condy was growing more in the mind to carry off
miss Isabella to Scotland, in spite of her relations, as
she desired.

" It's all over with our poor Judy ! " said I, with a
heavy sigh, making bold to speak to him one night
when he was a little cheerful, and standing in the
servants' hall all alone with me, as was often his
custom. " Not at all," said he ; "I never was fonder
of Judy than at this present speaking ; and to prove
it to you," said he, and he took from my hand a
halfpenny, change that I had just got along with my
tobacco, " and to prove it to you, Thady," says he,
" it's a toss up with me which I should marry this
minute, her or Mr. Moneygawl of Mount Juliet's
town's daughter — so it is." " Oh, boo! boo!"* says
I, making light of it, to see what he would go on
to next ; " your honour's joking, to be sure ; there's
no compare between our poor Judy and miss Isabella,
who has a great fortune, they say." " I'm not a man

* Boo ! boo ! an exclamation equivalent to pshaw or nonsense.

40 CASTLE RACKRENT.

to mind a fortune, nor never was/' said Sir Condy,
proudly, "whatever her friends may say; and to make
short of it/' says he, " I'm come to a determination
upon the spot ; " with that he swore such a terrible
oath, as made me cross myself; "and by this book,"
said he, snatching up my ballad book, mistaking it
for my prayer book, which lay in the M'indow ; "and
by this book," says he, " and by all the books that
ever were shut and opened, it's come to a toss-up with
me, and I'll stand or fall by the toss ; and so, Thady,
hand me over that pin* out of the ink-horn/' and he
makes a cross on the smooth side of the halfpenny ;
" Judy M 'Quirk," says he, " her mark."t God bless
him ! his hand was a little unsteadied by all the
whiskey punch he had taken, but it was plain to see
his heart was for poor Judy. My heart Avas all as
one as in my mouth when I saw the halfpenny up
in the air, but I said nothing at all ; and when it
came down, I was glad I had kept myself to myself,
for to be sure now it was all over with poor Judy.

* Pin, read pen. It formerly was vulgarly pronounced fin
in Ireland.

-h Her mark. It was the custom in Ireland for those who
could not write to make a cross to stand for their signature, as
was formerly the practice of our English monarchs. The Editor
inserts the fac-simile of an Irish 'mark, which may hereafter be
valuable to a judicious antiquary —

Her
Judy X M 'Quirk,

Mark.

In bonds or notes, signed in this manner, a witness is requisite,
as the name is frequently written by him or her.

CASTLE RACKRENT. 41

" Judy's out a luck," said I, striving to laugh. "I'm
out a luck," said he ; and I never saw a man look so
cast down : he took up the halfpenny off the flag, and
walked a\vay quite sober-like by the shock. Now,
though as easy a man, you would think, as any in the
wide world, there was no such thing as making him
unsay one of these sort of vows,* which he had
learned to reverence when young, as I well remem-
ber teaching him to toss up for bog-berries on my
knee. So I saw the affair was as good as settled
between him and miss Isabella, and I had no more to
say but to wish her joy, which I did the week after-
wards, upon her return from Scotland with my poor
master.

My new lady was young, as might be supposed of
a lady that had been carried off, by her own consent,
to Scotland ; but I could only see her at first through
her veil, which, from bashfulness or fashion, she kept
over her face. "And am I to walk through all this
crowd of people, my dearest love ? " said she to sir
Condy, meaning us servants and tenants, who had

* Vows. — It has been maliciously and unjustly hinted, that
the lower classes of the people in Ireland pay but little regard to
oaths ; yet it is certain that some oaths or vows have great power
over their minds. Sometimes they swear they will be revenged
on some of their neighbours ; this is an oath that they are never
known to break. But, what is infinitely more extraordinary and
unaccountable, they sometimes make and keep a vow against
whiskey; these vows are usually limited to a short time. A
woman who has a drunken husband is most fortunate if she can
prevail upon him to go to the priest, and make a vow against
whiskey for a year, or a month, or a week, or a day.

42 CASTLE BACKRENT.

gathered at the back gate. "My dear/' said sir
Condy, "there's nothing for it but to walk, or to
let me carry you as far as the house, for you see the
back road is too narrow for a carriage, and the great
piers have tumbled down across the front approach ;
so there's no driving the right way, by reason of the
ruins." " Plato, thou reasonest well ! " said she, or
words to that effect, which I could no ways under-
stand; and again, when her foot stumbled against a
broken bit of a car-wheel, she cried out, "Angels
and ministers of grace defend us ! " Well, thought
I, to be sure if she's no Jewish, like the last, she is a
mad woman for certain, which is as bad : it would
have been as well for my poor master to have taken
up with poor Judy, who is in her right mind, any
how.

She was dressed like a mad woman, moreover,
more than like any one I ever saw afore or siuce, and
I could not take my eyes off her, but still followed
behind her, and her feathers on the top of her hat
were broke going in at the low back door, and she
pulled out her little bottle out of her pocket to smell
to when she found herself in the kitchen, and said,
" I shall faint with the heat of this odious, odious
place." " My dear, it's only three steps across the
kitchen, and there's a fine air if your veil was up,"
said sir Condy, and with that threw back her veil,
so that I had then a full sight of her face ; she had
not at all the colour of one going to faint, but a fine
complexion of her own, as I then took it to be,
though her maid told me after it was all put on ; but

CASTLE RACKRENT. 43

even complexion and all taken in, she was no way, in
point of good looks, to compare to poor Judy ; and
vrith all she had a quality toss with her; but may be
it was my over-partiality to Judy, into whose place
I may say she stept, that made me notice all this.
To do her justice, however, she was, when we came
to know her better, very liberal in her housekeeping,
nothing at all of the skin-flint in her ; she left every
thing to the housekeeper ; and her own maid, Mrs.
Jane, who went with her to Scotland, gave her the
best of characters for generosity. She seldom or ever
wore a thing twice the same way, Mrs. Jane told us,
and was always pulling her things to pieces, and
giving them away, never being used, in her father's
house, to think of expence in any thing; and she
reckoned, to be sure, to go on the same way at Castle
Rackrent ; but, when I came to inquire, I learned
that her father was so mad with her for running off,
after his locking her up, and forbidding her to think
any more of sir Condy, that he would not give her a
farthing ; and it was lucky for her she had a few
thousands of her own, which had been left to her by
a good grandmother, and these were very convenient
to begin with. My master and my lady set out in
great style ; they had the finest coach and chariot,
and horses and liveries, and cut the greatest dash in
the county, returning their \vedding visits ; and it
was immediately reported, that her father had under-
taken to pay all my master's debts, and of course all
his tradesmen gave him a new credit, and every
thing went on smack smooth, and I could not but

44 CASTLE RACKRENT.

admire my lady's spirit, and was proud to see Castle
Rackrent again in all its glory. My lady had a fine
taste for building, and furniture, and playhouses, and
she turned every thing topsy-turvy, and made the
barrack-room into a theatre, as she called it, and she
went on as if she had a mint of money at her elbow ;
and, to be sure, I thought she knew best, especially as
sir Condy said nothing to it one way or the other.
All he asked, God bless him ! was to live in peace and
quietness, and have his bottle or his whiskey punch
at night to himself. Now this was little enough, to
be sure, for any gentleman ; but my lady couldn't
abide the smell of the whiskey punch. " My dear,"
says he, " you liked it well enough before we were
married, and why not now ? " "My dear," said she,
" I never smelt it, or I assure you I should never
have prevailed upon myself to marry you." " My
dear, I am sorry you did not smell it, but we can't
help that now," returned my master, without putting
himself in a passion, or going out of his way, but
just fair and easy helped himself to another glass, and
drank it off to her good health. All this the butler
told me, who was going back\vards and forwards un-
noticed with the jug, and hot water, and sugar, and
all he thought wanting. Upon my master's swal-
lowing the last glass of whiskey punch my lady
burst into tears, calling him an ungrateful, base, bar-
barous wretch ! and went off into a fit of hysterics,
as I think Mrs. Jane called it, and my poor master
was greatly frightened, this being the first thing of
the kind he had seen ; and he fell straight on his

CASTLE RACKUENT. 45

knees before her, and, like a good-hearted cratur as
he was, ordered the whiskey punch out of the room,
and bid 'em throw open all the windows, and cursed
himself: and then my lady came to herself again,
and when she saw him kneeling there bid him get
up, and not forswear himself any more, for that she
was sure he did not love her, nor never had : this we
learnt from Mrs. Jane, who was the only person left
present at all this. " My dear," returns my master,
thinking, to be sure, of Judy, as well he might,
" whoever told you so is an incendiary, and I'll have
'em turned out of the house this minute, if you'll
only let me know which of them it was." " Told
me what?" said my lady, starting upright in her
chair. " Nothing at all, nothing at all," said my
master, seeing he had overshot himself, and that my
lady spoke at random ; " but what you said just
now, that I did not love you, Bella ; who told you
that ? " " My own sense," she said, and she put her
handkerchief to her face, and leant back upon Mrs.
Jane, and fell to sobbing as if her heart would
break. " Why now, Bella, this is very strange of
you," said my poor master ; " if nobody has told you
nothing, what is it you are taking on for at this
rate, and exposing yourself and me for this way ? "
" Oh, say no more, say no more ; every word you
say kills me," cried my lady ; and she ran on like
one, as Mrs. Jane says, raving, " Oh, sir Condy, sir
Condy ! I that had hoped to tind in you — — "
" Why now, faith, this is a little too much ; do,
Bella, try to recollect yourself, my dear ; am not I

46 CASTLE RACKRENT.

your husband, and of your own choosing ; and is not
that enough ? " " Oh, too much ! too much !" cried
my lady, wringing her hands. " Why, my dear,
come to your right senses, for the love of heaven.
See, is not the whiskey punch, jug and bowl, and
all, gone out of the room long ago ? What is it, in
the wide world, you have to complain of ? " But
still my lady sobbed and sobbed, and called herself
the most wretched of women ; and among other out-
of-the-way provoking things, asked my master, was
he fit for company for her, and he drinking all night ?
This nettling him, which it was hard to do, he re-
plied, that as to drinking all night, he was then as
sober as she was herself, and that it was no matter
how much a man drank, provided it did no ways
affect or stagger him : that as to being fit company
for her, he thought himself of a family to be fit
company for any lord or lady in the land; but that
he never prevented her from seeing and keeping
what company she pleased, and that he had done his
best to make Castle Rackrent pleasing to her since
her marriage, having always had the house full of
visitors, and if her own relations were not amongst
them, he said that was their own fault, and their
pride's fault, of which he was sorry to find her lady-
ship had so unbecoming a share. So concluding, he
took his candle and walked off to his room, and my
lady was in her tantarums for three days after ; and
would have been so much longer, no doubt, but some
of her friends, young ladies, and cousins, and second
cousins, came to Castle Rackrent, by my poor mas-

CASTLE RACKBENT. 47

ter's express invitation, to see her, and she was in a
hurry to get up, as Mrs. Jane called it, a play for
them, and so got well, and was as finely dressed, and
as happy to look at, as ever ; and all the young
ladies, who used to be in her room dressing of her,
said, in Mrs. Jane's hearing, that my lady was the
happiest bride ever they had seen, and that to be
sure a love-match was the only thing for happiness,
where the parties could any way afford it.

As to affording it, God knows it was little they
knew of the matter ; my lady's few thousands could
not last for ever, especially the way she went on with
them, and letters from tradesfolk came every post
thick and threefold with bills as long as my arm, of
years' and years' standing; my son Jason had 'em all
handed over to him, and the pressing letters were
all unread by sir Condy, who hated trouble, and
could never be brought to hear talk of business, but
still put it off and put it off, saying, settle it any
how, or bid 'em call again to-morrow, or speak to me
about it some other time. Now it was hard to find
the right time to speak, for in the mornings he was
a-bed, and in the evenings over his bottle, \vhere no
gentleman chooses to be disturbed. Things in a
twelvemonth or so came to such a pass there was no
making a shift to go on any longer, though we were
all of us well enough used to live from hand to
mouth at Castle Rackrent. One day, I remember,
when there was a power of company, all sitting after
dinner in the dusk, not to say dark, in the drawing-
room, my lady having rung five times for candles,

48 CASTLE RACKRENT.

and none to go up, the housekeeper sent up the foot-
man, who went to my mistress, and whispered behind
her chair how it was. " My lady^" says he, " there
are no candles in the house." " Bless me," says she,
" then take a horse and gallop off as fast as you can
to Carrick O'Fungus, and get some." " And in the
mean time tell them to step into the playhouse, and
try if there are not some bits left," added sir Condy,
who happened to be within hearing. The man was
sent up again to my lady, to let her know there was
no horse to go, but one that wanted a shoe. " Go to
sir Condy, then ; I know nothing at all about the
horses," said my lady ; " why do you plague me
with these things ? " How it was settled I really
forget, but to the best of my remembrance, the boy
was sent down to my son Jason's to borrow candles
for the night. Another time in the winter, and on
a desperate cold day, there was no turf in for the
parlour and above stairs, and scarce enough for the
cook in the kitchen ; the little gossoon * was sent off
to the neighbours, to see and beg or borrow some,
but none could he bring back with him for love or
money ; so as needs must, we were forced to trouble
sir Condy — " Well, and if there's no turf to be had

* Gossoon, a little boy — from the French word gar yon. In
most Irish families there used to be a barefooted gossoon, who
was slave to the cook and the butler, and who in fact, without
wages, did all the hard work of the house. Gossoons were
always employed as messengers. The Editor has known a gos-
soon to go on foot, without shoes or stockings, fifty-one English
miles between sunrise and sunset.

CASTLE RACKRENT. 49

in the town or country, why what signifies talking
any more about it ; can't ye go and cut down a
tree ? " " Which tree, please your honour ? " I
made bold to say. " Any tree at all that's good to
burn," said sir Condy ; " send off smart and get one
down, and the fires lighted, before my lady gets up
to breakfast, or the house will be too hot to hold us."
He was always very considerate in all things about
my lady, and she wanted for nothing whilst he had
it to give. Well, when things were tight with them
about this time, my son Jason put in a word again
about the lodge, and made a genteel offer to lay
down the purchase-money, to relieve sir Condy's
distresses. Now sir Condy had it from the best
authority, that there were two writs come down to
the sheriff against his person, and the sheriff, as ill
luck would have it, was no friend of his, and talked
how he must do his duty, and how he would do it, if
it was against the first man in the country, or even
his own brother ; let alone one who had voted against
him at the last election, as sir Condy had done. So
sir Condy was fain to take the purchase-money of
the lodge from my son Jason to settle matters ; and
sure enough it was a good bargain for both parties,
for my son bought the fee-simple of a good house for
him and his heirs for ever, for little or nothing, and
by selling of it for that same, my master saved himself
from a gaol. Every way it turned out fortunate for
sir Condy ; for before the money was all gone there
came a general election, and he being so well be-
loved in the county, and one of the oldest families,
E i

50 CASTLE RACKHENT.

no one had a better right to stand candidate for the
vacancy ; and he was called upon by all his friends,
and the whole county I may say, to declare himself
against the old member, who had little thought of a
contest. My master did not relish the thoughts of
a troublesome canvass, and all the ill-will he might
bring upon himself by disturbing the peace of the
county, besides the expence, \vhich was no trifle;
but all his friends called upon one another to sub-
scribe, and they formed themselves into a committee,
and wrote all his circular letters for him, and en-
gaged all his agents, and did all the business un-
known to him ; and he was well pleased that it
should be so at last, and my lady herself Avas very
sanguine about the election ; and there was open
house kept night and day at Castle Rackrent, and I
thought I never saw my lady look so well in her life
as she did at that time ; there were grand dinners,
and all the gentlemen drinking success to sir Condy
till they were carried off; and then dances and
balls, and the ladies all finishing with a raking pot
of tea in the morning. Indeed it was well the com-
pany made it their choice to sit up all nights, for
there were not half beds enough for the sights of
people that were in it, though there were shake-
downs in the drawing-room always made up before
sunrise for those that liked it. For my part, when
I saw the doings that were going on, and the loads
of claret that \vent down the throats of them that
had no right to be asking for it, and the sights of
meat that went up to table and never came down,

CASTLE RACKRENT. 51

besides what was carried off to one or t'other below
stairs, I could'nt but pity my poor master, who was
to pay for all ; but I said nothing, for fear of gain-
ing myself ill-will. The day of election will come
some time or other, says I to myself, and all will be
over ; and so it did, and a glorious day it was as any
I ever had the happiness to see. " Huzza ! huzza !
sir Condy Rackrent for ever ! " was the first thing I
hears in the morning, and the same and nothing else
all day, and not a soul sober only just when polling,
enough to give their votes as became 'em, and to
stand the browbeating of the lawyers, who came
tight enough upon us ; and many of our freeholders
were knocked off, having never a freehold that they
could safely swear to, and sir Condy was not willing
to have any man perjure himself for his sake, as was
done on the other side, God knoAvs, but no matter
for that. Some of our friends were dumb- founded,
by the lawyers asking them : Had they ever been
upon the ground where their freeholds lay ? Now
sir Condy being tender of the consciences of them
that had not been on the ground, and so could not
swear to a freehold when cross-examined by them
lawyers, sent out for a couple of cleaves-full of the sods
of his farm of Gulteeshinnagh : * and as soon as the

* At St. Patrick's meeting, London, March, 1806, the duke
of Sussex said he had the honour of bearing an Irish tide, and,
with the permission of the company, he should tell them an anec-
dote of what he had experienced on his travels. When he was
at Rome, he went to visit an Irish seminary, and when they
heard who he was, and that he had an Irish title, some of them
E 2

52 CASTLE RACKRENT.

sods came into town he set each man upon his sod,
and so then, ever after, you know, they could fairly
swear they had been upon the ground.* We gained
the day by this piece of honesty. I thought I should
have died in the streets for joy when I seed my
poor master chaired, and he bareheaded, and it
raining as hard as it could pour ; but all the
crowds following him up and down, and he bowing
and shaking hands with the whole town. " Is that
sir Condy Rackrent in the chair ? " says a stranger
man in the crowd. " The same," says I ; " who
else should it be ? God bless him ! " " And I take
it, then, you belong to him ? " says he. " Not at
all," says I; " but I live under him, and have done
so these two hundred years and upwards, me and
mine." " It's lucky for you, then," rejoins he,
" that he is where he is ; for was he any where else
but in the chair, this minute he'd be in a worse
place ; for I was sent down on purpose to put him
up,t and here's my order for so doing in my pocket."
It was a writ that villain the wine merchant had
marked against my poor master for some hundreds
of an old debt, which it was a shame to be talking

asked him, " Please your Royal Highness, since you are an
Irish peer, will you tell us if you ever trod upon Irish ground ? "
When he told them he had not, " O then," said one of the
order, " you shall soon do so." They then spread some earth,
which had been brought from Ireland, on a marble slab, and
made him stand upoti it.

* This was actually done at an election in Ireland.

•j- To put hint up — to put him in gaol.

CASTLE RACKRENT. 53

of at such a time as this. " Put it in your pocket
again, and think no more of it any ways for seven
years to come, my honest friend," says I ; " he's a
member of parliament now, praised be God, and
such as you can't touch him : and if you'll take a
fool's advice, I'd have you keep out of the way this
day, or you'll run a good chance of getting your
deserts amongst my master's friends, unless you
choose to drink his health like every body else."
" I've no objection to that in life," said he ; so we
went into one of the public houses kept open for my
master ; and we had a great deal of talk about this
thing and that. " And how is it," says he, " your
master keeps on so well upon his legs? I heard say
he was off Holantide twelvemonth past." " Never
was better or heartier in his life," said I. " It's not
that I'm after speaking of," said he ; " but there was
a great report of his being ruined." " No matter,"
says I, " the sheriffs two years running were his par-
ticular friends, and the sub-sheriffs were both of them
gentlemen, and were properly spoken to ; and so the
writs lay snug with them, and they, as I understand
by my son Jason the custom in them cases is, re-
turned the writs as they came to them to those that
sent 'em ; much good may it do them ! with a word
in Latin, that no such person as sir Condy Rackrent,
bart., was to be found in those parts." " Oh, I un-
derstand all those ways better, no offence, than you,"
says he, laughing, and at the same time filling his
glass to my master's good health, which convinced
me he was a warm friend in his heart after all,

54 CASTLE BACKRENT.

though appearances were a little suspicious or so at
first. " To be sure/' says he, still cutting his joke,
" when a man's over head and shoulders in debt, he
may live the faster for it, and the better, if he goes
the right way about it ; or else how is it so many
live on so well, as we see every day, after they are
ruined ? " " How is it," says I, being a little merry
at the time; " how is it but just as you see the ducks
in the chicken-yard, just after their heads are cut
off by the cook, running round and round faster
than when alive?" At which conceit he fell a
laughing, and remarked he had never had the happi-
ness yet to see the chicken-yard at Castle Rackrent.
" It won't be long so, I hope," says I ; " you'll be
kindly welcome there, as every body is made by my
master ; there is not a freer spoken gentleman, or a
better beloved, high or low, in all Ireland." And of
what passed after this I'm not sensible, for we drank
sir Condy's good health and the downfall of his
enemies till we could stand no longer ourselves.
And little did I think at the time, or till long after,
how I was harbouring my poor master's greatest of
enemies myself. This fellow had the impudence,
after coming to see the chicken-yard, to get me to
introduce him to my son Jason ; little more than the
man that never was born did I guess at his meaning
by this visit : he gets him a correct list fairly drawn
out from my son Jason of all my master's debts, and
goes straight round to the creditors and buys them
all up, which he did easy enough, seeing the half of
them never expected to see their money out of sir

CASTLE RACKRENT. 55

Condy's hands. Then, when this base-minded limb
of the law, as I afterward detected him in being,
grew to be sole creditor over all, he takes him out a
custodiam on all the denominations and sub-denomi-
nations, and every carton and half carton upon the
estate ; and not content with that, must have an ex-
ecution against the master's goods and down to the
furniture, though little worth, of Castle Rackrent
itself. But this is a part of my story I'm not come
to yet, and its bad to be forestalling : ill news flies
fast enough all the world over.

To go back to the day of the election, which I
never think off but with pleasure and tears of gra-
titude for those good times ; after the election was
quite and clean over, there comes shoals of people
from all parts, claiming to have obliged my master
with their votes, and putting him in mind of pro-
mises which he could never remember himself to have
made ; one was to have a freehold for each of his
four sons ; another was to have a renewal of a lease ;
another an abatement ; one came to be paid ten
guineas for a pair of silver buckles sold my master
on the hustings, which turned out to be no better
than copper gilt ; another had a long bill for oats,
the half of which never went into the granary to my
certain knowledge, and the other half were not fit
for the cattle to touch ; but the bargain was made
the week before the election, and the coach and
saddle horses were got into order for the day, besides
a vote fairly got by them oats ; so no more reasoning
on that head ; but then there was no end to them

56 CASTLE HACKRENT.

that were telling sir Condy he had engaged to make
their sons excisemen, or high constables, or the like ;
and as for them that had bills to give in for liquor,
and beds, and straw, and ribands, and horses, and
postchaises for the gentlemen freeholders that came
from all parts and other counties to vote for my
master, and were not, to be sure, to be at any charges,
there was no standing against all these ; and, worse
than all, the gentlemen of my master's committee,
who managed all for him, and talked how they'd
bring him in without costing him a penny, and sub-
scribed by hundreds very genteelly, forgot to pay
their subscriptions, and had laid out in agents and
lawyers' fees and secret service money the Lord
knows how much ; and my master could never ask
one of them for their subscription you are sensible,
nor for the price of a fine horse he had sold one of
them ; so it all was left at his door. He could never,
God bless him again! I say, bring himself to ask a
gentleman for money, despising such sort of con-
versation himself; but others, \vho were not gentle-
men born, behaved very uncivil in pressing him at
this very time, and all he could do to content 'em all
was to take himself out of the way as fast as possible
to Dublin, where my lady had taken a house fitting
for him as a member of parliament, to attend his duty
in there all the winter. I was very lonely when the
whole family was gone, and all the things they had
ordered to go, and forgot, sent after them by the
car. There was then a great silence in Castle
Rackent, and I went moping from room to room,

CASTLE RACKRENT. 57

hearing the doors clap for want of right locks, and
the wind through the broken windows, that the
glazier never would come to mend, and the rain
coming through the roof and best ceilings all over
the house for want of the slater, whose bill Mras not
paid, besides our having no slates or shingles for that
part of the old building which was shingled and
burnt when the chimney took fire, and had been open
to the Aveather ever since. I took myself to the ser-
vants' hall in the evening to smoke my pipe as usual,
but missed the bit of talk we used to have there
sadly, and ever after was content to stay in the
kitchen and boil my little potatoes,* and put up my
bed there ; and every post-day I looked in the news-
paper, but no news of my master in the house ; he
never spoke good or bad; but as the butler wrote
down word to my son Jason, was very ill used by the
government about a place that was promised him
and never given, after his supporting them against
his conscience very honourably, and being greatly
abused for it, which hurt him greatly, he having the
name of a great patriot in the country before. The
house and living in Dublin too were not to be had
for nothing, and my son Jason said, " Sir Condy
must soon be looking out for a new agent, for I've
done my part, and can do no more: — if my lady had

* My little potatoes — Thady does not mean, by this expres-
sion, that his potatoes were less than other people's, or less than
the usual size — little is here used only as an Italian diminutive,
expressive of fondness.

58 CASTLE RACKRENT.

the bank of Ireland to spend, it would go all in one
winter, and sir Condy would never gainsay her,
though he does not care the rind of a lemon for her
all the while."

Now I could not bear to hear Jason giving out
after this manner against the family, and twenty
people standing by in the street. Ever since he had
lived at the lodge of his own, he looked down, how-
somever, upon poor old Thady, and was grown quite
a great gentleman, and had none of his relations near
him ; no wonder he was no kinder to poor sir Condy
than to his own kith or kin.* In the spring it was
the villain that got the list of the debts from him
brought down the custodiam, Sir Condy still attend-
ing his duty in parliament, and I could scarcely be-
lieve my own old eyes, or the spectacles with which
I read it, when I was shown my son Jason's name
joined in the custodiam ; but he told me it was only
for form's sake, and to make things easier than if all
the land was under the power of a total stranger.
Well, I did not know what to think ; it was hard to
be talking ill of my own, and I could not but grieve
for my poor master's fine estate, all torn by these
vultures of the law ; so I said nothing, but just
looked on to see how it would all end.

It was not till the month of June that he and my
lady came down to the country. My master was
pleased to take me aside with him to the brewhouse

* Kith and kin — family or relations. Kin from kind ; kith
from we know not what.

CASTLE RACKRENT. 59

that same evening, to complain to me of my son and
other matters, in which he said he was confident I
had neither art nor part ; he said a great deal more
to me, to whom he had been fond to talk ever since
he was my white-headed boy, before he came to the
estate ; and all that he said about poor Judy I can
never forget, but scorn to repeat. He did not say an
unkind word of my lady, but wondered, as well he
might, her relations would do nothing for him or her,
and they in all this great distress. He did not take
any thing long to heart, let it be as it would, and
had no more malice, or thought of the like in him,
than a child that can't speak ; this night it was all
out of his head before he went to his bed. He took
his jug of whiskey punch — my lady was grown quite
easy about the whiskey punch by this time, and so I
did suppose all was going on right betwixt them, till
I learnt the truth through Mrs. Jane, who talked
over their affairs to the housekeeper, and I within
hearing. The night my master came home thinking
of nothing at all bat just making merry, he drank
his bumper toast " to the deserts of that old cur-
mudgeon my father-in-law, and all enemies at Mount
Juliet's town." Now my lady was no longer in the
mind she formerly was, and did no ways relish hear-
ing her own friends abused in her presence, she
said. " Then why don't they show themselves your
friends," said my master, " and oblige me with the
loan of the money I condescended, by your advice,
my dear, to ask ? It's now three posts since I sent
off my letter, desiring in the postscript a speedy

60 CASTLE RACK.RENT.

answer by the return of the post, and no account at
all from them yet." " I expect they'll write to me
next post/' says my lady, and that was all that
passed then ; but it was easy from this to guess
there was a coolness betwixt them, and with good
cause.

The next morning, being post-day, I sent off the
gossoon early to the post-office, to see was there any
letter likely to set matters to rights, and he brought
back one with the proper post-mark upon it, sure
enough, and I had no time to examine, or make any
conjecture more about it, for into the servants' hall
pops Mrs. Jane with a blue bandbox in her hand,
quite entirely mad. " Dear ma'am, and what's the
matter ? " says I. " Matter enough," says she ;
" don't you see my bandbox is wet through, and my
best bonnet here spoiled, besides my lady's, and all
by the rain coming in through that gallery window,
that you might have got mended, if you'd had any
sense, Thady, all the time we were in town in the
winter." " Sure I could not get the glazier, ma'am,"
says I. " You might have stopped it up any how,"
says she. " So I did, ma'am, to the best of my
ability ; one of the panes with the old pillow-case,
and the other with a piece of the old stage green
curtain ; sure I was as careful as possible all the
time you were away, and not a drop of rain came in
at that window of all the windows in the house, all
winter, ma'am, when under my care ; and now the
family's come home, and it's summer time, I never
thought no more about it, to be sure ; but dear, it's

CASTLE KACKRENT. 61

a pity to think of your bonnet, ma'ara ; but here's
what will please you, ma'am, a letter from Mount
Juliet's town for my lady." With that she snatches
it from me without a word more, and runs up the
back stairs to my mistress ; I follows with a slate to
make up the window. This window was in the long
passage, or gallery, as my lady gave out orders to
have it called, in the gallery leading to my master's
bedchamber and hers. And when I went up with
the slate, the door having no lock, and the bolt spoilt,
was a-jar after Mrs. Jane, and as I was busy with
the window, I heard all that was saying within.

" Well, what's in your letter, Bella, my dear ? "
says he : " you're a long time spelling it over."
" Wont you shave this morning, sir Condy ? " says
she, and put the letter into her pocket. " I shaved
the day before yesterday," says he, "my dear, and
that's not what I'm thinking of now; but any
thing to oblige you, and to have peace and quietness,
my dear" — and presently I had the glimpse of him
at the cracked glass over the chimney-piece, standing
up shaving himself to please my lady. But she took
no notice, but went on reading her book, and Mrs.
Jane doing her hair behind. " What is it you're
reading there, my dear ? — phoo, I've cut myself with
this razor ; the man's a cheat that sold it me, but I
have not paid him for it yet : what is it you're read-
ing there ? did you hear me asking you, my dear ? "
" The Sorrows of Werter," replies my lad}', as well
as I could hear. " I think more of the sorrows of
sir Condy," says my master, joking like. " What

O2 CASTLE RACKRENT.

news from Mount Juliet's town ? " ' ' No news,"
says she, " but the old story over again, my friends
all reproaching me still for what I can't help now."
" Is it for marrying me ? " said my master, still
shaving : " what signifies, as you say, talking of
that, when it can't be help'd now ? "

With that she heaved a great sigh, that I heard
plain enough in the passage. " And did not you
use me basely, sir Condy," says she, " not to tell me
you were ruined before I married you ? " " Tell
you, my dear," said he ; " did you ever ask me one
word about it ? and had not you friends enough of
your own, that were telling you nothing else from
morning to night, if you'd have listened to them
slanders ?" " No slanders, nor are my friends slan-
derers ; and I can't bear to hear them treated with
disrespect as 1 do," says my lady, and took out
her pocket handkerchief; " they are the best of

friends ; and if I had taken their advice . But

my father was wrong to lock me up, I own ; that was
the only unkind thing I can charge him with ; for if
he had not locked me up, I should never have had a
serious thought of running away as I did." " Well,
my dear," said my master, " don't cry and make
yourself uneasy about it now, when it's all over, and
you have the man of your own choice, in spite of 'em
all." " I was too young, I know, to make a choice
at the time you ran away with me, I'm sure," says
my lady, and another sigh, which made my master,
half shaved as he was, turn round upon her in
surprise. " Why, Bell," says he, " you can't deny

CASTLE RACKRENT. 63

what you know as well as I do, that it was at your
own particular desire, and that twice under your own
hand and seal expressed, that I should carry you off
as I did to Scotland, and marry you there." " Well,
say no more about it, sir Condy," said my lady,
pettish like — " I was a child then, you know."
" And as far as I know, you're little better now, my
dear Bella, to be talking in this manner to your
husband's face; but I won't take it ill of you, for I
know it's something in that letter you put into your
pocket just now, that has set you against me all on
a sudden, and imposed upon your understanding."
". It is not so very easy as you think it, sir Condy,
to impose upon my understanding," said my lady.
" My dear," says he, " I have, and with reason, the
best opinion of your understanding of any man now
breathing ; and you know I have never set my own
in competition with it till now, my dear Bella," says
he, taking her hand from her book as kind as could
be — " till now, when I have the great advantage of
being quite cool, and you not ; so don't believe one
word your friends say against your own sir Condy,
and lend me the letter out of your pocket, till I see
what it is they can have to say." " Take it then,"
says she, " and as you are quite cool, I hope it is a
proper time to request you'll allow me to comply
with the wishes of all my own friends, and return
to live with my father and family, during the re-
mainder of my wretched existence, at Mount Juliet's
town."

At this my poor master fell back a few paces, like

64 CASTLE RACKBENT.

one that had been shot. " You're not serious, Bella/'
says he ; " and could you find it in your heart to
leave me this way in the very middle of my distresses,
all alone ? *' But recollecting himself after his first
surprise, and a moment's time for reflection, he
said, with a great deal of consideration for my lady,
" Well, Bella, my dear, I believe you are right ; for
what could you do at Castle Rackrent, and an execu-
tion against the goods coming down, and the furniture
to be canted, and an auction in the house all next
week ? so you have my full consent to go, since that
is your desire, only you must not think of my accom-
panying you, which I could not in honour do upon
the terms I always have been, since our marriage,
with your friends ; besides, I have business to transact
at home ; so in the mean time, if we are to have any
breakfast this morning, let us go down and have it
for the last time in peace and comfort, Bella."

Then as I heard my master coming to the passage
door, I finished fastening up my slate against the
broken pane ; and when he came out, I wiped down
the window seat with my wig,* and bade him a good

* Wigs were formerly used instead of brooms in Ireland, for
sweeping or dusting tables, stairs, &c. The Editor doubted the
fact, till he saw a labourer of the old school sweep down a flight
of stairs with his wig ; he afterwards put it on his head again
with the utmost composure, and said, '• Oh, please your honour,
it's never a bit the worse."

It must be acknowledged, that these men are not in any danger
of catching cold by taking off their wigs occasionally, because
they usually have fine crops of hair growing under their wigs.

CASTLE RACKRENT. 65

morrow as kindly as I could, seeing he was in trouble,
though he strove and thought to hide it from me.
" This window is all racked and tattered/' says I,
" and it's what I'm striving to mend." " It is all
racked and tattered, plain enough/' says he, " and
never mind mending it, honest old Thady," says he ;
" it will do well enough for you and I, and that's all
the company we shall have left in the house by-and-
bye." " I'm sorry to see your honour so low this
morning," says I ; " but you'll be better after taking
your breakfast." " Step down to the servants' hall,"
says he, " and bring me up the pen and ink into the
parlour, and get a sheet of paper from Mrs. Jane, for
I have business that can't brook to be delayed ; and
come into the parlour with the pen and ink yourself,
Thady, for I must have you to witness my signing a
paper I have to execute in a hurry." Well, while I
was getting of the pen and ink-horn, and the sheet
of paper, I ransacked my brains to think what could
be the papers my poor master could have to execute
in such a hurry, he that never thought of such a
thing as doing business afore breakfast, in the whole
course of his life, for any man living ; but this was
for my lady, as I afterwards found, and the more
genteel of him after all her treatment.

I was just witnessing the paper that he had
scrawled over, and was shaking the ink out of my

The wigs are often yellow, and the hair which appears from
beneath them black ; the wigs are usually too small, and are
raised up by the hair beneath, or by the ears of the wearers.

F '

66 CASTLE RACKRENT.

pen upon the carpet, when my lady came into break-
fast, and she started as if it had been a ghost ! as
veil she might, when she saw sir Condy writing at
this unseasonable hour. " That will do very well,
Thady," says he to me, and took the paper I had
signed to, without knowing what upon the earth it
might be, out of my hands, and walked, folding it
up, to my lady.

" You are concerned in this, my lady Rackrent,"
says he, putting it into her hands ; " and I beg you'll
keep this memorandum safe, and show it to your
friends the first thing you do when you get home ;
but put it in your pocket now, my dear, and let us
eat our breakfast, in God's name." " What is all
this ? " said my lady, opening the paper in great
curiosity. " It's only a bit of a memorandum of
what I think becomes me to do whenever I am able,"
says my master ; " you know my situation, tied hand
and foot at the present time being, but that can't
last always, and when I'm dead and gone, the land
M'ill be to the good, Thady, you know; and take
notice, it's my intention your lady should have a clear
five hundred a year jointure off the estate afore any
of my debts are paid." '• Oh, please your honour,"
says I, " I can't expect to live to see that time,
being now upwards of fourscore years of age, and you
a young man, and likely to continue so, by the help
of God." I was vexed to see my lady so insensible
too, for all she said \vas, " This is very genteel of
you, sir Condy. You need not wait any longer,
Thady;" so I just picked up the pen and ink that

CASTLE RACKRENT. 67

had tumbled on the floor, and heard my master
finish with saying, " You behaved very genteel to
me, my dear, when you threw all the little you had
in your own power along with yourself, into my
hands ; and as I don't deny but what you may have
had some things to complain of," — to be sure he was
thinking then of Judy, or of the whiskey punch, one
or t'other, or both, — if and as I don't deny but you
may have had something to complain of, my dear, it is
but fair you should have something in the form of
compensation to look forward to agreeably in future ;
besides, it's an act of justice to myself, that none of
your friends, my dear, may ever have it to say against
me, I married for money, and not for love." " That
is the last thing I should ever have thought of say-
ing of you, sir Condy," said my lady, looking very
gracious. " Then, my dear," said sir Condy, " we
shall part as good friends as we met ; so all's right."

I was greatly rejoiced to hear this, and went out
of the parlour to report it all to the kitchen. The
next morning my lady and Mrs. Jane set out for
Mount Juliet's town in the jaunting car : many won-
dered at my lady's choosing to go away, considering
all things, upon the jaunting car, as if it was only a
party of pleasure ; but they did not know, till I told
them, that the coach was all broke in the journey
down, and no other vehicle but the car to be had ;
besides, my lady's friends were to send their coach to
meet her at the cross roads ; so it was all done very
proper.

My poor master was in great trouble after my lady
F 2

CASTLE RACKRENT.

left us. The execution came down ; and every thing
at Castle Rackrent was seized by the gripers, and
my son Jason, to his shame be it spoken, amongst
them. I wondered, for the life of me, how he could
harden himself to do it ; but then he had been study-
ing the law, and had made himself attorney Quirk ;
so he brought down at once a heap of accounts upon
my master's head. To cash lent, and to ditto, and to
ditto, and to ditto, and oats, and bills paid at the mil-
liner's and linen draper's, and many dresses for the
fancy balls in Dublin for my lady, and all the bills to
the workmen and tradesmen for the scenery of the
theatre, and the chandler's and grocer's bills, and
tailor's, besides butcher's and baker's, and worse than
all, the old one of that base wine merchant's, that
wanted to arrest my poor master for the amount on
the election day, for \vhich amount sir Condy after-
wards passed his note of hand, bearing lawful interest
from the date thereof; and the interest and compound
interest was now mounted to a terrible deal on many
other notes and bonds for money borrowed, and there
was besides hush money to the sub-sheriffs, and sheets
upon sheets of old and new attorneys' bills, with
heavy balances, as per former account furnished,
brought forward with interest thereon ; then there
was a powerful deal due to the crown for sixteen
years' arrear of quit-rent of the town-lands of Carrick-
shaughlin, with driver's fees, and a compliment to
the receiver every year for letting the quit-rent run
on, to oblige sir Condy, and sir Kit afore him.
Then there were bills for spirits and ribands at the

CASTLE RACKRENT. 69

election time, and the gentlemen of the committee's
accounts unsettled, and their subscription never
gathered ; and there were cows to be paid for, with
the smith and farrier's bills to be set against the
rent of the demesne, with calf and hay money ; then
there was all the servants' wages, since I don't know
when, coming due to them, and sums advanced for
them by my son Jason for clothes, and boots, and
whips, and odd moneys for sundries expended by
them in journeys to town and elsewhere, and pocket-
money for the master continually, and messengers
and postage before his being a parliament man ; I
can't myself tell you what besides ; but this I know,
that when the evening came on the w,hich sir Condy
had appointed to settle all with my son Jason, and
when he comes into the parlour, and sees the sight
of bills and load of papers all gathered on the
great dining-table for him, he puts his hands before
both his eyes, and cried out, " Merciful Jasus ! what
is it I see before me ? " Then I sets an arm-chair at
the table for him, and with a deal of difficulty he
sits him down, and my son Jason hands him over the
pen and ink to sign to this man's bill and t'other
man's bill, all which he did without making the least
objections. Indeed, to give him his due, I never seen
a man more fair and honest, and easy in all his
dealings, from first to last, as sir Condy, or more
willing to pay every man his own as far as he was
able, which is as much as any one can do. " Well/'
says he, joking like with Jason, " I wish we could
settle it all Avith a stroke of my grey goose quill.

70 CASTLE RACKRENT.

What signifies making me wade through all this
ocean of papers here ; can't you now, who under-
stand drawing out an account, debtor and creditor,
just sit down here at the corner of the table, and get
it done out for me, that I may have a clear view of
the balance, which is all I need be talking about,
you know ? " " Very true, sir Condy ; nobody un-
derstands business better than yourself," says Jason.
" So I've a right to do, being born and bred to the
bar," says sir Condy. " Thady, do step out and see
are they bringing in the things for the punch, for
we've just done all we have to do for this evening."
I goes out accordingly, and when I came back, Jason
was pointing to the balance, which was a terrible sight
to my poor master. " Pooh ! pooh ! pooh ! " says he,
" here's so many noughts they dazzle my eyes, so they
do, and put me in mind of all I suffered, laming of
my numeration table, when I was a boy at the day-
school along with you, Jason — units, tens, hundreds,
tens of hundred. Is the punch ready, Thady?" says
he, seeing me. " Immediately ; the boy has the jug in
his hand; it's coming up stairs, please your honour,
as fast as possible," says I, for I saw his honour was
tired out of his life ; but Jason, very short and cruel,
cuts me off with — " Don't be talking of punch yet a
while ; it's no time for punch yet a bit — units, tens,
hundreds," goes he on, counting over the master's
shoulder, units, tens, hundreds, thousands. " A-
a-ah ! hold your hand," cries my master; " where
in this wide world am I to find hundreds, or units
.itself, let alone thousands? " " The balance has been

CASTLE RACKRENT. 71

running on too long," says Jason, sticking to him as
I could not have done at the time, if you'd have
given both the Indies and Cork to boot ; " the balance
has been running on too long, and I'm distressed my-
self on your account, sir Condy, for money, and the
thing must be settled now on the spot, and the balance
cleared off," says Jason. " I'll thank you if you'll
only show me how," says sir Condy. " There's but one
way," says Jason, " and that's ready enough : when
there's no cash, what can a gentleman do, but go to
the land ? " " How can you go to the land, and it
under custodiam to yourself already," says sir Condy,
" and another custodiam hanging over it ? and no one
at all can touch it, you know, but the custodees."
" Sure, can't you sell, though at a loss ? sure you
can sell, and I've a purchaser ready for you," says
Jason. " Have ye so?" said sir Condy; " that's a
great point gained ; but there's a thing now beyond
all, that perhaps you don't know yet, barring Thady
has let you into the secret." " Sarrah bit of a secret,
or any thing at all of the kind, has he learned from
me these fifteen weeks come St. John's eve," says I ;
" for we have scarce been upon speaking terms of late ;
but what is it your honour means of a secret?"
" Why, the secret of the little keepsake I gave my
lady Rackrent the mornhjg she left us, that she might
not go back empty-handed to her friends." " My
lady Rackrent, I'm sure, has baubles and keepsakes
enough, as those bills on the table will show," says
Jason ; " but \vhatever it is," says he, taking up his
pen, " we must add it to the balance, for to be sure

T2 CASTLE RACKRENT.

it. can't be paid for." " No, nor can't till after my
decease/' said sir Condy ; " that's one good thing."
Then colouring up a good deal, he tells Jason of the
memorandum of the five hundred a year jointure he
had settled upon my lady ; at which Jason was indeed
mad, and said a great deal in very high words, that
it was iising a gentleman, who had the management
of his affairs, and was moreover his principal creditor,
extremely ill, to do such a thing without consulting
him, and against his knowledge and consent. To all
which sir Condy had nothing to reply, but that upon
his conscience, it was in a hurry and without a
moment's thought on his part, and he was very sorry
for it, but if it was to do over again he would do the
same ; and he appealed to me, and I was ready to
give my evidence, if that would do, to the truth of
all he said.

So Jason with much ado was brought to agree to
a compromise. " The purchaser that I have ready,"
says he, " will be much displeased, to be sure, at the
incumbrance on the land, but I must see and manage
him ; here's a deed ready drawn up; we have nothing
to do but to put in the consideration money and our
names to it." " And how much am I going to sell ?
— the lands of O'Shaughlin's town, and the lands of
Gruneaghoolaghan, and the lands of Crookagnawa-
turgh," says he, just reading to himself, — " and —
Oh, murder, Jason ! sure you won't put this in — the
castle stable, and appurtenances of Castle Rackrent."
" Oh, murder ! " says I, clapping my hands, " this is
too bad, Jason." " Why so ? " said Jason, " when it's

CASTLE HACKRENT. 73

all, and a great deal more to the back of it, lawfully
mine, was I to push for it." " Look at him," says I,
pointing to sir Condy, who was just leaning back in
his arm-chair, with his arms falling beside him like
one stupified ; " is it you, Jason, that can stand in his
presence, and recollect all he has been to us, and all
we have been to him, and yet use him so at the
last ? " " Who will you find to use him better, I ask
you ? " said Jason ; " if he can get a better purchaser,
I'm content ; I only offer to purchase, to make things
easy and oblige him : though I don't see what com-
pliment I am under, if you come to that; I have
never had, asked, or charged more than sixpence in
the pound, receiver's fees; and where would he have
got an agent for a penny less?" "Oh, Jason! Jason!
how will you stand to this in the face of the county
and all who know you ? " says I ; " and what will
people think and say, when they see you living here
in Castle Rackrent, and the lawful owner turned out
of the seat of his ancestors, without a cabin to put his
head into, or so much as a potatoe to eat ? " Jason,
whilst I was saying this, and a great deal more,
made me signs, and winks, and frowns ; but I took
no heed ; for I was grieved and sick at heart for my
poor master, and couldn't but speak.

"Here's the punch," says Jason, for the door
opened ; " here's the punch !" Hearing that, my
master starts up in his chair, and recollects himself,
and Jason uncorks the whiskey. " Set down the jug
here," says he, making room for it beside the papers
opposite to sir Condy, but still not stirring the deed

74 CASTLE HACKRENT.

that was to make over all. Well, I was in great
hopes he had some touch of mercy about him when
I saw him making the punch, and my master took a
glass ; but Jason put it back as he was going to till
again, saying, " No, sir Condy, it sha'n't be said of
me, I got your signature to this deed when you were
half-seas over : you know your name and hand-
writing in that condition would not, if brought
before the courts, benefit me a straw ; wherefore let
us settle all before we go deeper into the punch-
bowl." "Settle all as you will;" said sir Condy,
clapping his hands to his ears ; " but let me hear no
more ; I'm bothered to death this night." " You've
only to sign," said Jason, putting the pen to him.
"Take all, and be content," said my master. So he
signed ; and the man who brought in the punch
witnessed it, for I was not able, but crying like a
child; and besides, Jason said, which I was glad of,
that 1 was no fit witness, being so old and doting. It
was so bad with me, I could not taste a drop of the
punch itself, though my master himself, God bless
him ! in the midst of his trouble, poured out a glass
for me, and brought it up to my lips. " Not a drop,
I thank your honour's honour as much as if I took it
though," and I just set down the glass as it was, and
went out, and when I got to the street-door, the
neighbour's childer, who were playing at marbles
there, seeing me in great trouble, left their play, and
gathered about me to know what ailed me ; and I
told them all, for it was a great relief to me to speak
to these poor childer, that seemed to have some

CASTLE RACKRENT. 75

natural feeling left in them : and when they were
made sensible that sir Condy was going to leave
Castle Rackrent for good and all, they set up a
whillalu that could be heard to the farthest end of
the street ; and one fine boy he was, that my master
had given an apple to that morning, cried the loud-
est, but they all were the same sorry, for sir Condy
was greatly beloved amongst the childer, for letting
them go a nutting in the demesne, without saying a
word to them, though my lady objected to them.
The people in the town, who were the most of them
standing at their doors, hearing the childer cry,
would know the reason of it ; and when the report
was made known, the people one and all gathered in
great anger against my son Jason, and terror at the
notion of his coming to be landlord over them, and
they cried, " No Jason ! no Jason ! Sir Condy ! sir
Condy ! sir Condy Rackrent for ever ! " and the mob
grew so great and so loud, I was frightened, and
made my way back to the house to warn my son to
make his escape, or hide himself for fear of the con-
sequences. Jason would not believe me till they
came all round the house, and to the windows with
great shouts : then he grew quite pale, and asked
sir Condy what had he best do ? " I'll tell you what
you'd best do," said sir Condy, who was laughing to
see his fright ; " finish your glass first, then let's go
to the window and show ourselves, and I'll tell 'em,
or you shall, if you please, that I'm going to the
Lodge for change of air for my health, and by my
own desire, for the rest of my days." " Do so," said

76 CASTLE RACKRENT.

Jason, \vho never meant it should have been so, but
could not refuse him the Lodge at this unseasonable
time. Accordingly sir Condy threw up the sash,
and explained matters, and thanked all his friends,
and bid 'em look in at the punch-bowl, and observe
that Jason and he had been sitting over it very good
friends ; so the mob was content, and he sent 'em out
some whiskey to drink his health, and that was the
last time his honour's health was ever drunk at
Castle Rackrent.

The very next day, being too proud, as he said, to
me, to stay an hour longer in a house that did not
belong to him, he sets off to the Lodge, and I along
with him not many hours after. And there was
great bemoaning through all O'Shaughlin's town,
which I stayed to witness, and gave my poor master
a full account of when I got to the Lodge. He was
very low and in his bed when I got there, and com-
plained of a great pain about his heart, but I guessed
it was only trouble, and all the business, let alone
vexation, he had gone through of late ; and knowing
the nature of him from a boy, I took my pipe, and,
whilst smoking it by the chimney, began telling him
how he was beloved and regretted in the county, and
it did him a deal of good to hear it. " Your honour
has a great many friends yet, that you don't know
of, rich and poor, in the county," says I ; " for as I
was coming along the road, I met two gentlemen in
their own carriages, who asked after you, knowing
me, and wanted to know where you was and all
about you, and even how old I was : think of that."

CASTLE HACKRENT. 77

Then he wakened out of his dose, and began ques.
tioning me who the gentlemen were. And the next
morning it came into my head to go, unknown to any
body, with my master's compliments, round to many
of the gentlemen's houses, where he and my lady
used to visit, and people that I knew were his great
friends, and would go to Cork to serve him any day
in the year, and I made bold to try to borrow a trifle
of cash from them. They all treated me very civil
for the most part, and asked a great many questions
very kind about my lady, and sir Condy, and all
the family, and were greatly surprised to learn from
me Castle Rackrent was sold, and my master at the
Lodge for health ; and they all pitied him greatly,
and he had their good wishes, if that would do, but
money was a thing they unfortunately had not any
of them at this time to spare. I had my journey for
my pains, and I, not used to walking, nor supple as
formerly, was greatly tired, but had the satisfaction
of telling my master, when I got to the Lodge, all
the civil things said by high and low.

" Thady," says he, " all you've been telling me
brings a strange thought into my head ; I've a notion
I shall not be long for this world any how, and I've
a great fancy to see my own funeral afore I die." I
was greatly shocked, at the first speaking, to hear
him speak so light about his funeral, and he, to all
appearance, in good health, but recollecting myself,
answered, " To be sure, it would be as fine a sight as
one could see, I dared to say, and one I should be
proud to witness, and I did not doubt his honour's

7o CASTLE RACKRENT.

would be as great a funeral as ever sir Patrick
O'Shaughlin's was, and such a one as that had never
been known in the county afore or since." But I
never thought he was in earnest about seeing his
own funeral himself, till the next day he returns to
it again. " Thady," says he, " as far as the wake*
goes, sure I might without any great trouble have
the satisfaction of seeing a bit of my own funeral."
" Well, since your honour's honour's so bent upon
it," says I, not willing to cross him, and he in trouble,
" we must see what we can do." So he fell into a
sort of a sham disorder, which was easy done, as he
kept his bed, and no one to see him ; and I got my
shister, who was an old woman very handy about
the sick, and very skilful, to come up to the Lodge,
to nurse him ; and we gave out, she knowing no
better, that he was just at his latter end, and it
answered beyond any thing ; and there was a great
throng of people, men, women, and childer, and there
being only two rooms at the Lodge, except what was
locked up full of Jason's furniture and things, the
house was soon as full and fuller than it could hold,
and the heat, and smoke, and noise wonderful great ;
and standing amongst them that were near the bed,
but not thinking at all of the dead, I was started by
the sound of my master's voice from under the
great coats that had been thrown all at top, and I

* A wake in England is a meeting avowedly for merriment ;
in Ireland it is a nocturnal meeting avowedly for the purpose of
watching and bewailing the dead ; but, in reality, for gossiping
and debaucherv.

CASTLE RACKRENT. 79

went close up, no one noticing. " Thady," says he,
" I've had enough of this ; I'm smothering, and can't
hear a word of all they're saying of the deceased."
" God bless you, and lie still and quiet," says I, " a
bit longer, for my shister's afraid of ghosts, and would
die on the spot with fright, was she to eee you
come to life all on a sudden this way without the
least preparation." So he lays him still, though well
nigh stifled, and I made all haste to tell the secret
of the joke, whispering to one and t'other, and there
was a great surprise, but not so great as we had laid
out it would. "And aren't we to have the pipes and
tobacco, after coming so far to-night ?" said some ;
but they were all well enough pleased \vhen his
honour got up to drink with them, and sent for more
spirits from a shebean-house,* where they very civilly
let him have it upon credit. So the night passed off
very merrily, but, to my mind, sir Condy was rather
upon the sad order in the midst of it all, not finding
there had been such a great talk about himself after
his death as he had always expected to hear.

The next morning, when the house was cleared of
them, and none but my shister and myself left in the
kitchen with sir Condy, one opens the door, and walks
in, and who should it be but Judy M'Quirk herself!
I forgot to notice, that she had been married long
since, whilst young captain Moneygawl lived at the
Lodge, to the captain's huntsman, who after a whilst

* Shebean house, a hedge-alehouse. Shebean properly means
weak small-beer, taplash.

80 CASTLE RACKRKNT.

listed and left her, and was killed in the wars. Poor
Judy fell off greatly in her good looks after her being
married a year or two ; and being smoke-dried in
the cabin, and neglecting herself like,, it was hard
for sir Condy himself to know her again till she
spoke ; but when she says, " It's Judy M'Quirk,
please your honour, don't you remember her ?"
"Oh, Judy, is it you?" says his honour; "yes,
sure, I remember you very well ; but you're greatly
altered, Judy." " Sure it's time for me," says she ;
" and I think your honour, since I seen you last, — but
that's a great while ago, — is altered too." "And with
reason, Judy," says sir Condy, fetching a sort of a
sigh ; " but how's this, Judy ?" he goes on; " I take
it a little amiss of you, that you were not at my wake
last night." " Ah, don't be being jealous of that,"
says she ; " I didn't hear a sentence of your honour's
wake till it was all over, or it would have gone hard
with me but I would have been at it sure ; but I
was forced to go ten miles up the country three days
ago to a wedding of a relation of my own's, and
didn't get home till after the wake was over ; but,"
says she, " it won't be so, I hope, the next time,*
please your honour." " That we shall see, Judy,"
says his honour, " and may be sooner than you think
for, for I've been very unwell this while past, and

* At the coronation of one of our monarchs, the king com-
plained of the confusion which happened in the procession.
The great officer who presided told his majesty, " That it should
not be so next time."

CASTLE RACKRENT. 81

don't reckon any way I'm long for this world." At
this, Judy takes up the corner of her apron, and puts
it first to one eye and then to t'other, being to all
appearance in great trouble ; and my shister put in
her word, and bid his honour have a good heart, for
she was sure it was only the gout, that sir Patrick
\ised to have flying about him, and he ought to
drink a glass or a bottle extraordinary to keep it out
r»f his stomach ; and he promised to take her advice,
and sent out for more spirits immediately ; and Judy
made a sign to me, and I went over to the door to
her, and she said, " I wonder to see sir Condy so
low ! has he heard the news?" "What news?" says
I. " Didn't ye hear it, then ? " says she ; " my lady
Rackrent that was is kilt and lying for dead, and I
don't doubt but it's all over with her by this time."
" Mercy on us all," says I ; " how was it ? " " The
jaunting car it was that ran away with her," says
Judy. "I was coming home that same time from
Biddy M'Guggin's marriage, and a great crowd of
people too upon the road, coining from the fair of
Crookaghnawaturgh, and I sees a jaunting car
standing in the middle of the road, and with the two
wheels off and all tattered. 'What's this?' says I.
'Didn't ye hear of it?' says they that were looking
on ; ' it's my lady Rackrent's car, that M'as running
away from her husband, and the horse took fright
at a carrion that lay across the road, and so ran away
with the jaunting car, and my lady Rackrent and
her maid screaming, and the horse ran with them
against a car that was coming from the fair, with the
G i

82 CASTLE RACKRENT.

boy asleep on it, and the lady's petticoat hanging
out of the jaunting car caught, and she was dragged
I can't tell you how far upon the road, and it all
broken up with the stones just going to be pounded,
and one of the road-makers, with his sledge-hammer
in his hand, stops the horse at the last ; but my lady
Rackrent was all kilt* and smashed, and they lifted
her into a cabin hard by, and the maid was found
after, where she had been thrown, in the gripe of
the ditch, her cap and bonnet all full of bog water,
and they say my lady can't live any way.' Thady,
pray now is it true what I'm told for sartain, that sir
Condy has made over all to your son Jason ? " "All,"
says I. "All entirely?" says she again. "All
entirely," says I. " Then," says she, "that's a great
shame, but don't be telling Jason what I say." "And
what is it you say ? " cries sir Condy, leaning over
betwixt us, which made Judy start greatly. "I
know the time when Judy M'Quirk would never
have stayed so long talking at the door, and I in the
house." "Oh !" says Judy, "for shame, sir Condy ;

* Kilt and smashed. — Our author is not here guilty of an
anti-climax. The mere English reader, from a similarity of
sound between the words kilt and killed, might be induced to
suppose that their meanings are similar, yet they are not by any
means in Ireland synonymous terms. Thus you may hear a
man exclaim, " I'm kilt and murdered !" but he frequently
means only that he has received a black eye, or a slight contu-
sion Pm kilt all over means that he is in a worse state than

being simply kilt. Thus, /'/» kilt with the cold is nothing to
/';« kilt all over with the rheumatism.

CASTLE KACKRENT. 83

times are altered since then, and it's my lady Rack-
rent you ought to be thinking of." " And why
should I be thinking of her, that's not thinking of
me now ? " says sir Condy. " No matter for that,"
says Judy, very properly ; " it's time you should be
thinking of her, if ever you mean to do it at all, for
don't you know she's lying for death ? " " My lady
Rackrent ! " says sir Condy, in a surprise ; " why it's
but two days since we parted, as you very well know,
Thady, in her full health and spirits, and she and
her maid along with her going to Mount Juliet's
town on her jaunting car." " She'll never ride no
more on her jaunting car," said Judy, " for it has
been the death of her, sure enough." " And is she
dead, then ? " says his honour. " As good as dead, I
hear," says Judy ; " but there's Thady here has just
learnt the whole truth of the story as I had it, and
it is fitter he or any body else should be telling it
you than I, sir Condy : I must be going home to the
childer." But he stops her, but rather from civility
in him, as I could see very plainly, than any thing
else, for Judy was, as his honour remarked at her
first coming in, greatly changed, and little likely, as
far as I could see — though she did not seem to be
clear of it herself — little likely to be my lady Rack-
rent now, should there be a second toss-up to be
made. But I told him the whole story out of the
face, just as Judy had told it to me, and he sent off
messenger with his compliments to Mount Juliet's
town that evening, to learn the truth of the report,
and Judy bid the boy that was going call in at Tim
G 2

84 CASTLE RACKRENT.

M'Enerney's shop in O'Shaughlin's town and buy
her a new shawl. " Do so/' said sir Condy, " and
tell Tim to take no money from you, for I must pay
him for the shawl myself." At this my shister
throws me over a look, and I says nothing, but turned
the tobacco in my mouth, whilst Judy began making
a many words about it, and saying how she could
not be beholden for shawls to any gentleman. I left
her there to consult with my shister, did she think
there was any thing in it, and my shister thought I
was blind to be asking her the question, and I
thought my shister must see more into it than I did;
and recollecting all past times and every thing, I
changed my mind, and came over to her way of
thinking, and we settled it that Judy was very
like to be my lady Rackrent after all, if a vacancy
should have happened.

The next day, before his honour was up, somebody
comes with a double knock at the door, and I was
greatly surprised to see it was my son Jason.
" Jason, is it you ? " said I ; " what brings you to the
Lodge? " says I ; " is it my lady Rackrent? we know
that already since yesterday." " May be so,'' says
he, " but I must see sir Condy about it." " You
can't see him yet," says I ; " sure he is not awake."
" What then," says he, " can't he be wakened? and
I standing at the door." " I'll not be disturbing his
honour for you, Jason," says I ; " many's the hour
you've waited in your time, and been proud to do it,
till his honour was at leisure to speak to you. His
honour," says I, raising my voice, at which his

CASTLE RACKREXT. 85

honour wakens of his own accord, and calls to me
from the room to know who it was I was speaking to.
Jason made no more ceremony, but follows me into
the room. " How are you, sir Condy?" says he;
" I'm happy to see you looking so Mrell ; I came up
to know how you did to-day, and to see did you want
for any thing at the Lodge." " Nothing at all, Mr.
Jason, I thank you," says he ; for his honour had his
own share of pride, and did not choose, after all that
had passed, to be beholden, I suppose, to my son ;
" but pray take a chair and be seated, Mr. Jason."
Jason sat him down upon the chest, for chair there
was none, and after he had sat there some time, and a
silence on all sides, " What news is there stirring in
the country, Mr. Jason M'Quirk?" says sir Condy
very easy, yet high like. " None that's news to you,
sir Condy, I hear," says Jason : " I am sorry to hear
of my lady Rackrent's accident." " I'm much obliged
to you, and so is her ladyship, I'm sure," answered
sir Condy, still stiff; and there was another sort of
a silence, which seemed to lie the heaviest on my son
Jason.

" Sir Condy," says he at last, seeing sir Condy
disposing himself to go to sleep again, " sir Condy,
I dare say you recollect mentioning to me the little
memorandum you gave to lady Rackrent about the
500/. a-year jointure." " Very true," said sir Condy;
" it is all in my recollection." " But if my lady
Rackrent dies, there's an end of all jointure," says
Jason. " Of course," says sir Condy. " But it's not
a matter of certainty that my lady Rackrent won't

OO CASTLE RACKRENT.

recover," says Jason. " Very true, sir," says my
master. " It's a fair speculation, then, for you to
consider what the chance of the jointure on those
lands, when out of custodiam, will be to you." " Just
five hundred a-year, I take it, without any specula-
tion at all," said sir Condy. " That's supposing the
life dropt, and the custodiam off, you know; begging
your pardon, sir Condy, who understands business,
that is a wrong calculation." " Very likely so,"
said sir Condy ; " but, Mr. Jason, if you have any
thing to say to me this morning about it, I'd be
obliged to you to say it, for I had an indifferent
night's rest last night, and wouldn't be sorry to sleep
a little this morning." " I have only three words
to say, and those more of consequence to you, sir
Condy, than me. You are a little cool, I observe ;
but I hope you will not be offended at what I have
brought here in my pocket," and he pulls out two
long rolls, and showers down golden guineas upon the
bed. " What's this ? " said sir Condy ; " it's long
since " — but his pride stops him. " All these are
your lawful property this minute, sir Condy, if you
please," said Jason. " Not for nothing, I'm sure,"
said sir Condy, and laughs a little — " nothing for
nothing, or I'm under a mistake with you, Jason."
" Oh, sir Condy, we'll not be indulging ourselves in
any unpleasant retrospects," says Jason ; " it's my
present intention to behave, as I'm sure you will,
like a gentleman in this affair. Here's two hundred
guineas, and a third I mean to add, if you should
think proper to make over to me all your right and

CASTLE BACKRENT. 87

title to those lands that you know of." " I'll con-
sider of it," said my master ; and a great deal more,
that I was tired listening to, was said by Jason, and
all that, and the sight of the ready cash upon the
bed worked with his honour ; and the short and the
long of it was, sir Condy gathered up the golden
guineas, and tied them up in a handkerchief, and
signed some paper Jason brought with him as usual,
and there was an end of the business ; Jason took
himself away, and my master turned himself round
and fell asleep again.

I soon found what had put Jason in such a hurry
to conclude this business. The little gossoon we had
sent off the day before with my master's compliments
to Mount Juliet's town, and to know how my lady
did after her accident, was stopped early this
morning, coming back with his answer through
O'Shaughlin's town, at Castle Rackrent, by my son
Jason, and questioned of all he knew of my lady
from the servant at Mount Juliet's town ; and the
gossoon told him my lady Rackrent was not expected
to live over night ; so Jason thought it high time to
be moving to the Lodge, to make his bargain with
my master about the jointure afore it should be too
late, and afore the little gossoon should reach us
with the news. My master was greatly vexed, that
is, I may say, as much as ever I seen him, when he
found how he had been taken in ; but it was some
comfort to have the ready cash for immediate con-
sumption in the house, any way.

And when Judy came up that evening, and

00 CASTLE RACKRENT

brought the childer to see his honour, he unties the
handkerchief, and, God bless him ! whether it M as
little or much he had, 'twas all the same with him,
he gives 'em all round guineas a-piece. " Hold up
your head," says my shister to Judy, as sir Condy
\vas busy filling out a glass of punch for her eldest
boy — " Hold up your head, Judy; for who knows but
we may live to see you yet at the head of the Castle
Kackrent estate ? " " May be so," says she, " but
not the way you are thinking of." I did not rightly
Tinderstand M'hich Mray Judy was looking when she
makes this speech, till a-while after. " Why,
Thady, you were telling me yesterday, that sir
Condy had sold all entirely to Jason, and \vhere then
does all them guineas in the handkerchief come
from ? " " They are the purchase-money of my
lady's jointure," says I. Judy looks a little bit
puzzled at this. " A penny for your thoughts,
Judy," says my shister ; " hark, sure sir Condy is
drinking her health." He was at the table in the
room., * drinking with the exciseman and the ganger,
who came up to see his honour, and we were stand-
ing over the fire in the kitchen. " I don't much
care is he drinking my health or not," says Judy ;
" and it is not sir Condy I'm thinking of, M'ith all
your jokes, whatever he is of me." " Sure you
wouldn't refuse to be my lady Rackrent, Judy, if
you had the offer ? " says I. " But if I could do
better!" says she. " How better?" says I and my

* The room — the principal room in the house.

CASTLE RACKRENT. 89

shister both at once. " How better ? " says she ;
" why, what signifies it to be my lady Rackrent, arid
no castle ? sure what good is the car, and no horse
to draw it ? " " And where will ye get the horse,
Judy ? " says I. " Never mind that," says she ;
" may be it is your own son Jason might find that."
" Jason ! " says I ; " don't be trusting to him, Judy.
Sir Condy, as I have good reason to know, spoke
well of you, when Jason spoke very indifferently of
you, Judy." " No matter," says Judy ; " it's often
men speak the contrary just to what they think of
us." " Arid you the same way of them, no doubt,"
ansM-ers I. " Nay, don't be denying it, Judy, for I
think the better of ye for it, and shouldn't be proud
to call ye the daughter of a shister's son of mine, if
I was to hear ye talk ungrateful, and any way dis-
respectful of his honour." " What disrespect," says
she, " to say I'd rather, if it was my luck, be
the wife of another man ? " <( You'll have no luck,
mind my words, Judy," says I; and all I remem-
bered about my poor master's goodness in tossing up
for her afore he married at all came across me, and I
had a choaking in my throat that hindered me to
say more. " Better luck, any how, Thady," says
she, " than to be like some folk, following the for-
tunes of them that have none left." " Oh ! King
of Glory !" says I, " hear the pride and ungratitude
of her, and he giving his last guineas but a minute
ago to her childer, and she with the fine shawl on her
he made her a present of but yesterday ! " " Oh, troth,
Judy, you're wrong now," says my shister, looking

90 CASTLE RACKRENT.

at the shawl. " And was not he wrong yesterday,
then/' says she, " to be telling me I was greatly
altered, to affront me ? " " But, Judy," says I,
" what is it brings you here then at all in the mind
you are in ; is it to make Jason think the better of
you ? " " I'll tell you no more of my secrets, Thady,"
says she, " nor would have told you this much, had
I taken you for such an unnatural fader as I tind you
are, not to wish your own son prefarred to another."
" Oh, troth, you are wrong now, Thady," says my
shister. Well, I was never so put to it in my life :
between these womens, and my son and my master,
and all I felt and thought just now, I could not,
upon my conscience, tell which was the wrong from
the right. So I said not a word more, but was only
glad his honour had not the luck to hear all Judy
had been saying of him, for I reckoned it would have
gone nigh to break his heart; not that I was of
opinion he cared for her as much as she and my
shister fancied, but the ungratitude of the whole
from Judy might not plase him ; and he could never
stand the notion of not being well spoken of or be-
loved like behind his back. Fortunately for all par-
ties concerned, he was so much elevated at this time,
there was no danger of his understanding any thing,
even if it had reached his ears. There was a great
horn at the Lodge, ever since my master and captain
Moneygawl was in together, that used to belong
originally to the celebrated sir Patrick, his ancestor;
and his honour was fond often of telling the story
that he learned from me when a child, how sir

CASTLE RACKRENT. 91

Patrick drank the full of this horn without stopping,
and this was what no other man afore or since could
without drawing breath. Now sir Condy challenged
the gauger, who seemed to think little of the horn,
to swallow the contents, and had it filled to the brim
with punch ; and the gauger said it was what he
could not do for nothing, but he'd hold sir Condy a
hundred guineas he'd do it. " Done," says my mas-
ter ; " I'll lay you a hundred golden guineas to a
tester* you don't." " Done," says the gauger; and
done and done's enough between two gentlemen.
The gauger was cast, and my master won the bet,
and thought he'd won a hundred guineas, but by the
wording it was adjudged to be only a tester that
was his due by the exciseman. It was all one to
him ; he was as well pleased, and I was glad to see
him in such spirits again.

The gauger, bad luck to him ! was the man that
next proposed to my master to try himself could he
take at a draught the contents of the great horn.
" Sir Patrick's horn !" said his honour; " hand it to
me : I'll hold you your own bet over again I'll
swallow it." " Done," says the gauger; " I'll lay ye
any thing at all you do no such thing." " A hundred
guineas to sixpence I do," says he : " bring me the
handkerchief." I was loth, knowing he meant the
handkerchief with the gold in it, to bring it out in

* Tester — sixpence ; from the French word t6te, a head : a
piece of silver stamped with a head, which in old French was
called " un testion," and which was about the value of an old
English sixpence. Tester is used in Shakspeare.

CASTLE RACKRENT.

sucli company, and his honour not very able to
reckon it. " Bring me the handkerchief, then,
Thady," says he, and stamps with his foot ; so with
that I pulls it out of my great coat pocket, where I
had put it for safety. Oh, how it grieved me to see
the guineas counting upon the table, and they the
last my master had ! Says sir Condy to me, " Your
hand is steadier than mine to-night, old Thady, and
that's a wonder ; fill you the horn for me." And so,
wishing his honour success, I did ; but I filled it,
little thinking of what would befall him. He swal-
lows it down, and drops like one shot. We lifts him
up, and he was speechless, and quite black in the
face. We put him to bed, and in a short time he
wakened, raving with a fever on his brain. He was
shocking either to see or hear. " Judy! Judy! have
you no touch of feeling ? won't you stay to help us
nurse him ?" says I to her, and she putting on her
shawl to go out of the house. " I'm frightened to
see him," says she, " and wouldn't nor couldn't stay
in it ; and what use? he can't last till the morning."
With that she ran off. There was none but my
shister and myself left near him of all the many
friends he had. The fever came and went, and
came and went, and lasted five days, and the sixth
he was sensible for a few minutes, and said to me,
knowing me very well, " I'm in burning pain all
withinside of me, Thady." I could not speak, but
my shister asked him would he have this thing or
t'other to do him good ? " No," says he, " no-
thing will do me good no more," and he gave a
terrible screech with the torture he was in — then

CASTLE HACKRENT. 93

again a minute's ease — " brought to this by drink/'
says he ; " where are all the friends ? — where's
Judy ? — Gone, hey ? Ay, sir Condy has been a fool
all his days/' said he ; and there M'as the last word
he spoke, and died. He had but a very poor funeral,
after all.

If you want to know any more, I'm not very well
able to tell you ; but my lady Rackrent did not die,
as was expected of her, but M'as only disfigured in
the face ever after by the fall and bruises she got ;
and she and Jason, immediately after my poor mas-
ter's death, set about going to law about that join-
ture ; the memorandum not being on stamped paper,
some say it is worth nothing, others again it may do ;
others say, Jason won't have the lands at any rate;
Many wishes it so : for my part, I'm tired wishing
for any thing in this world, after all I've seen in it —
but I'll say nothing; it would be a folly to be getting
myself ill-will in my old age. Jason did not marry,
nor think of marrying Judy, as I prophesied, and I
am not sorry for it ; who is ? As for all I have here
set down from memory and hearsay of the family,
there's nothing but truth in it from beginning to
end : that you may depend upon ; for where's the use
of telling lies about the things which every body
knows as well as I do ?

The Editor could have readily made the catas-
trophe of sir Condy's history more dramatic and
more pathetic, if he thought it allowable to varnish

94 CASTLE RACKRENT.

the plain round tale of faithful Thady. He lays it
before the English reader as a specimen of manners
and characters, which are, perhaps, unknown in
England. Indeed, the domestic habits of no nation
in Europe were less known to the English than
those of their sister country, till within these few
years.

Mr. Young's picture of Ireland, in his tour
through that country, was the first faithful portrait
of its inhabitants. All the features in the foregoing
sketch were taken from the life, and they are cha-
racteristic of that mixture of quickness, simplicity,
cunning, carelessness, dissipation, disinterestedness,
shrewdness, and blunder, which, in different forms,
and with various success, has been brought upon the
stage, or delineated in novels.

It is a problem of difficult solution to determine,
whether an Union will hasten or retard the meliora-
tion of this country. The few gentlemen of educa-
tion, who now reside in this country, will resort to
England : they are few, but they are in nothing
inferior to men of the same rank in Great Britain.
The best that can happen will be the introduction of
British manufacturers in their places.

Did the Warwickshire militia, who were chiefly
artisans, teach the Irish to drink beer ? or did they
learn from the Irish to drink whiskey ?

1800.

GLOSSARY.

Some friends, who have seen Thady's history since it
has been printed, have suggested to the Editor,
that many of the terms and idiomatic phrases, with
which it abounds, could not be intelligible to the
English reader ivilhout further explanation. The
Editor has therefore furnished the following Glos-
sary.

Page 1. Monday morning. — Thady begins his
memoirs of the Rackrent Family by dating Monday
morning, because no great undertaking can be auspi-
ciously commenced in Ireland on any morning but
Monday morning. " O, please God we live till
Monday morning, we'll set the slater to mend the
roof of the house. On Monday morning we'll fall to,
and cut the turf. On Monday morning we'll see and
begin mowing. On Monday morning, please your
honour, we'll begin and dig the potatoes," &c.

All the intermediate days, between the making
of such speeches and the ensuing Monday, are
wasted : and when Monday morning comes, it is ten
to one that the business is deferred to the next
Monday morning. The Editor knew a gentleman,

96 GLOSSARY.

who, to counteract this prejudice, made his workmen
and labourers begin all new pieces of work upon a
Saturday.

Page 3. Let alone the three kingdoms itself. —
Lei alone, in this sentence, means put out of consi-
deration. The phrase, let alone, which is now used
as the imperative of a verb, may in time become a
conjunction, and may exercise the ingenuity of some
future etymologist. The celebrated Home Tooke
has proved most satisfactorily, that the conjunction
but comes from the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon
very (beoulan} to be out ; also, that z/'comes from gift,
the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb which signi-
fies to give, &c.

Page 5. Whillaluh.' — Ullaloo, Gol, or lamentation
over the dead —

" Magnoque ululante tumultu." — VIRGIL.

*' Ululatibus omne
Implevere nemus." — OVID.

A full account of the Irish Go], or Ullaloo, and of
the Caoinan or Irish funeral song, with its first semi-
chorus, second semichorus, full chorus of sighs and
groans, together with the Irish words and music, may
be found in the fourth volume of the transactions of
the Royal Irish Academy. For the advantage of lazy
readers, who would rather read a page than walk a
yard, and from compassion, not to say sympathy, with
their infirmity, the Editor transcribes the following
passages :

GLOSSARY. 97

" The Irish have been always remarkable for their
funeral lamentations, and this peculiarity has been
noticed by almost every traveller who visited them ;
and it seems derived from their Celtic ancestors, the
primaeval inhabitants of this isle.

" It has been affirmed of the Irish, that to cry was
more natural to them than to any other nation, and
at length the Irish cry became proverbial. *

" Cambrensis in the twelfth century says, the Irish
then musically expressed their griefs ; that is, they
applied the musical art, in which they excelled all
others, to the orderly celebration of funeral obsequies,
by dividing the mourners into two bodies, each alter-
nately singing their part, and the whole at times
joining in full chorus. * * * * The body of
the deceased, dressed in grave clothes, and orna-
mented with flowers, was placed on a bier, or some
elevated spot. The relations and keepers (singing
mourners) ranged themselves in two divisions, one at
the head, and the other at the feet of the corpse.
The bards and croteries had before prepared the
funeral Caoinan. The chief bard of the head chorus
began by singing the first stanza in a low, doleful
tone, which was softly accompanied by the harp : at
the conclusion, the foot semichorus began the la-
mentation, or Ullaloo, from the final note of the
preceding stanza, in which they were answered by
the head semichorus; then both united in one general
chorus. The chorus of the first stanza being ended,
the chief bard of the foot semichorus began the
second Gol or lamentation, in which he was answered

GLOSSARY.

by that of the head ; and then, as before, both united
in the general full chorus. Thus alternately were
the song and choruses performed during the night.
The genealogy, rank, possessions, the virtues and
vices of the dead were rehearsed, and a number of
interrogations were addressed to the deceased ; as,
Why did he die ? If married, whether his wife was
faithful to him, his sons dutiful, or good hunters or
warriors ? If a woman, whether her daughters were
fair or chaste ? If a young man, whether he had
been crossed in love ; or if the blue-eyed maids of
Erin treated him with scorn ? "

We are told, that formerly the feet (the metrical
feet) of the Caoinan were much attended to ; but on
the decline of the Irish bards these feet were gra-
dually neglected, and the Caoinan fell into a sort of
slipshod metre amongst women. Each province had
different Caoinans, or at least different imitations of
the original. There was the Munster cry, the Ulster
cry, &c. It became an extempore performance, and
every set of keepers varied the melody according to
their own fancy.

It is curious to observe how customs and ceremonies
degenerate. The present Irish cry, or howl, cannot
boast of such melody, nor is the funeral procession
conducted with much dignity. The crowd of people
who assemble at these funerals sometimes amounts
to a thousand, often to four or five hundred. They
gather as the bearers of the hearse proceed on their
way, and when they pass through any village, or
when they come near any houses, they begin to cry —

GLOSSARY. 99

Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! Agh ! Agh ! raising their
notes from the first Oh ! to the last Agh ! in a kind
of mournful howl. This gives notice to the inhabit-
ants of the village that a funeral is passing, and
immediately they flock out to follow it. In the
province of Munster it is a common thing for the
women to follow a funeral, to join in the universal
cry with all their might and main for some time, and
then to turn and ask — " Arrah ! who is it that's dead ?
— who is it we're crying for ?" Even the poorest
people have their own burying-places, that is, spots
of ground in the church-yards, where they say that
their ancestors have been buried ever since the wars
of Ireland ; and if these burial-places are ten miles
from the place where a man dies, his friends and
neighbours take care to carry his corpse thither.
Always one priest, often five or six priests, attend
these funerals ; each priest repeats a mass, for
which he is paid, sometimes a shilling, sometimes
half-a-crown, sometimes half-a-guinea, or a guinea,
according to their circumstances, or, as they say,
according to the ability of the deceased. After the
burial of any very poor man, who has left a widow
or children, the priest makes what is called a collection
for the widow; he goes round to every person present,
and each contributes sixpence or a shilling, or what
they please. The reader will find in the note upon
the word Wake, p. 117, more particulars respecting
the conclusion of the Irish funerals.

Certain old women, who cry particularly loud and
well, are in great request, and, as a man said to the
H 2

100 GLOSSARY.

Editor, " Every one would wish and be proud to
have such at his funeral, or at that of his friends."
The lower Irish are wonderfully eager to attend the
funerals of their friends and relations, and they make
their relationships branch out to a great extent. The
proof that a poor man has been well beloved during
his life is his having a crowded funeral. To attend
a neighbour's funeral is a cheap proof of humanity,
but it does not, as some imagine, cost nothing. The
time spent in attending funerals may be safely valued
at half a million to the Irish nation ; the Editor
thinks that double that sum would not be too high an
estimate. The habits of profligacy and drunkenness,
which are acquired at wakes, are here put out of the
question. When a labourer, a carpenter, or a smith,
is not at his work, which frequently happens, ask
where he is gone, and ten to one the answer is —
" Oh faith, please your honour, he couldn't do a stroke
to-day, for he's gone to the funeral."

Even beggars, when they grow old, go about
beggingjfrr their own funerals ; that is, begging for
money to buy a coffin, candles, pipes, and tobacco.
For the use of the candles, pipes, and tobacco, see
Wake.

Those who value customs in proportion to their
antiquity, and nations in proportion to their ad-
herence to ancient customs, will, doubtless, admire
the Irish Ullaloo, and the Irish nation, for per-
severing in this usage from time immemorial. The
Editor, however, has observed some alarming symp-
toms, which seem to prognosticate the declining taste

GLOSSARY. 101

for the Ullaloo in Ireland. In a comic theatrical
entertainment, represented not long since on the
Dublin stage, a chorus of old women was introduced,
who set up the Irish howl round the relics of a
physician, who is supposed to have fallen under the
wooden sword of Harlequin. After the old women
have continued their Ullaloo for a decent time, with
all the necessary accompaniments of wringing their
hands, wiping or rubbing their eyes with the corners
of their gowns or aprons, &c. one of the mourners
suddenly suspends her lamentable cries, and, turning
to her neighbour, asks, " Arrah now, honey, who is
it we're crying for ? "

Page 6. The tenants were sent away without their
whiskey. — It is usual with some landlords to give their
inferior tenants a glass of whiskey when they pay their
rents. Thady calls it their whiskey; not that the
whiskey is actually the property of the tenants, but
that it becomes their right after it has been often given
to them. In this general mode of reasoning respecting
rights the lower Irish are not singular, but they are
peculiarly quick and tenacious in claiming these
rights. " Last year your honour gave me some straw
for the roof of my house, and I expect your honour
will be after doing the same this year." In this
manner gifts are frequently turned into tributes.
The high and low are not always dissimilar in their
habits. It is said, that the Sublime Ottoman Porte
is very apt to claim gifts as tributes : thus it is dan-
gerous to send the Grand Seignor a fine horse on

102 GLOSSARY.

his birthday one year, lest on his next birthday he
should expect a similar present, and should proceed
to demonsti'ate the reasonableness of his expectations.

Page 7- He demeaned himself greatly — means,
he lowered or disgraced himself much.

Page 7- Duty fowls, and duty turkies, and duly
geese. — In many leases in Ireland, tenants were
formerly bound to supply an inordinate quantity of
poultry to their landlords. The Editor knew of
thirty turkies being reserved in one lease of a small
farm.

Page 9. English tenants. — An English tenant
does not mean a tenant who is an Englishman, but
a tenant who pays his rent the day that it is due.
It is a common prejudice in Ireland, amongst the
poorer classes of people, to believe that all tenants in
England pay their rents on the very day when they
become due. An Irishman, when he goes to take a
farm, if he wants to prove to his landlord that he is
a substantial man, offers to become an English tenant.
If a tenant disobliges his landlord by voting against
him, or against his opinion, at an election, the tenant
is immediately informed by the agent, that he must
become an English tenant. This threat does not
imply that he is to change his language or his coun-
try, but that he must pay all the arrear of rent which
he owes, and that he must thenceforward pay his
rent on that day when it becomes due.

GLOSSARY. 103

Page 9. Canting — does not mean talking or
writing hypocritical nonsense, but selling substan-
tially by auction.

Page 9. Duty work. — It was formerly common
in Ireland to insert clauses in leases, binding tenants
to furnish their landlords with labourers and horses
for several days in the year. Much petty tyranny
and oppression have resulted from this feudal custom.
Whenever a poor man disobliged his landlord, the
agent sent to him for his duty work, and Thady does
not exaggerate when he says, that the tenants were
often called from their own work to do that of their
landlord. Thus the very means of earning their rent
were taken from them : whilst they were getting
home their landlord's harvest> their own was often
ruined, and yet their rents were expected to be paid
as punctually as if their time had been at their own
disposal. This appears the height of absurd injustice.

In Esthonia, amongst the poor Sclavonian race of
peasant slaves, they pay tributes to their lords, not
under the name of duty work, duty geese, duty
turkies, &c., but under the name of righteousnesses.
The following ballad is a curious specimen of Estho-
nian poetry : —

" This is the cause that the country is ruined,

And the straw of the thatch is eaten away,

The gentry are come to live in the land —

Chimneys between the village,

And the proprietor upon the white floor !

The sheep brings forth a lamb with a white forehead,

104 GLOSSARY.

This is paid to the lord for a righteousness sheep.

The sow farrows pigs,

They go to the spit of the lord.

The hen lays eggs,

They go into the lord's frying-pan.

The cow drops a male calf,

That goes into the lord's herd as a bull.

The mare foals a horse foal,

That must be for my lord's nag.

The boor's wife has sons,

They must go to look after my lord's poultry."

Page 10. Out of forty-nine suits which he had,
he never lost one but seventeen. — Thady's language
in this instance is a specimen of a mode of rhetoric
common in Ireland. An astonishing assertion is
made in the beginning of a sentence, which ceases to
be in the least surprising, when you hear the quali-
fying explanation that follows. Thus a man who
is in the last stage of staggering drunkenness will,
if he can articulate, swear to you — " Upon his con-
science now, and may he never stir from the spot
alive if he is telling a lie, upon his conscience he has
not tasted a drop of any thing, good or bad, since
morning at-all-at-all, but half a pint of whiskey,
please your honour."

Page 11. Fairy Mounts — Barrows. It is said
that these high mounts were of great service to the
natives of Ireland when Ireland was invaded by the
Danes. Watch was always kept on them, and upon
the approach of an enemy a fire was lighted to give
notice to the next watch, and thus the intelligence
was quickly communicated through the country.

GLOSSARY. 105

Somi, years ago, the common people believed that
these barrows were inhabited by fairies, or, as they
called them, by the good people. " O troth, to the
best of my belief, and to the best of my judgment
and opinion," said an elderly man to the Editor, " it
was only the old people that had nothing to do, and
got together, and were telling stories about them
fairies, but to the best of my judgment there's
nothing in it. Only this I heard myself not very
many years back from a decent kind of a man, a
grazier, that as he was coming just fair and easy
(quietly) from the fair, with some cattle and sheep,

that he had not sold, just at the church of , at

an angle of the road like, he was met by a good-
looking man, who asked him where he was going ?
And he answered, ' Oh, far enough, I must be going
all night.' ' No, that you mustn't nor won't (says
the man), you'll sleep with me the night, and you'll
want for nothing, nor your cattle nor sheep neither,
nor your beast (horse) ; so come along with me.'
With that the grazier lit (alighted) from his horse,
and it was dark night ; but presently he finds him-
self, he does not know in the wide world how, in a
fine house, and plenty of every thing to eat and
drink ; nothing at all wanting that he could wish
for or think of. And he does not mind (recollect or
know) how at last he falls asleep ; and in the morn-
ing he finds himself lying, not in ever a bed or a
house at all, but just in the angle of the road where
first he met the strange man: there he finds him-
self lying on his back on the grass, and all his sheep

106 GLOSSARY.

feeding as quiet as ever all round about him, and his
horse the same way, and the bridle of the beast over
his wrist. And I asked him what he thought of it ;
and from first to last he could think of nothing, but
for certain sure it must have been the fairies that
entertained him so well. For there was no house to
see any where nigh hand, or any building, or barn,
or place at all, but only the church and the mote
(barroiv}. There's another odd thing enough that
they tell about this same church, that if any per-
son's corpse, that had not a right to be buried in
that church-yard, went to be burying there in it, no,
not all the men, women, or childer in all Ireland
could get the corpse any way into the church-yard ;
but as they would be trying to go into the church-
yard, their feet would seem to be going backwards
instead of forwards ; ay, continually backwards the
whole funeral would seem to go ; and they would
never set foot with the corpse in the church- yard.
Now they say that it is the fairies do all this ; but it
is my opinion it is all idle talk, and people are after
being wiser now."

The country people in Ireland certainly had great
admiration mixed with reverence, if not dread, of
fairies. They believed that beneath these fairy
mounts were spacious subterraneous palaces, inha-
bited by the good people, who must not on any account
be disturbed. When the wind raises a little eddy of
dust upon the road, the poor people believe that it
is raised by the fairies, that it is a sign that they
are journeying from one of the fairies' mounts to

GLOSSARY. 107

another, and they say to. the fairies, or to the dust
as it passes, " God speed ye, gentlemen ; God speed
ye." This averts any evil that the good people might
be inclined to do them. There are innumerable
stories told of the friendly and unfriendly feats of
these busy fairies ; some of these tales are ludicrous,
and some romantic enough for poetry. It is a pity
that poets should lose such convenient, though dimi-
nutive machinery. By-the-bye, Parnel, who showed
himself so deeply "skilled in faerie lore," was an
Irishman ; and though he has presented his faeries
to the world in the ancient English dress , of
" Britain's isle, and Arthur's days," it is probable
that his first acquaintance with them began in his
native country.

Some remote origin for the most superstitious or
romantic popular illusions or vulgar errors may often
be discovered. In Ireland, the old churches and
church-yards have been usually fixed upon as the
scenes of wonders. Now the antiquarians tell us, that
near the ancient churches in that kingdom caves of
various constructions have from time to time been
discovered, which were formerly used as granaries or
magazines by the ancient inhabitants, and as places to
which they retreated in time of danger. There is
(p. 84 of the R. I. A. Transactions for 1789) a parti-
cular account of a number of these artificial caves at
the west end of the church of Killossy, in the county
of Kildare. Under a rising ground, in a dry sandy
soil, these subterraneous dwellings were found : they
have pediment roofs, and they communicate with

108 GLOSSARY.

each other by small apertures. In the Brehon laws
these are mentioned, and there are fines inflicted by
those laws upon persons who steal from the subter-
raneous granaries. All these things show that there
was a real foundation for the stories which were told
of the appearance of lights, and of the sounds of voices
near these places. The persons who had property
concealed there very willingly countenanced every
wonderful relation that tended to make these places
objects of sacred awe or superstitious terror.

Page 12. Weed-ashes. — By ancient usage in
Ireland, all the weeds on a farm belonged to the
farmer's wife, or to the wife of the squire who holds
the ground in his own hands. The great demand
for alkaline salts in bleaching rendered these ashes
no inconsiderable perquisite.

Page 12. Sealing money. — Formerly it was the
custom in Ireland for tenants to give the squire's lady
from two to fifty guineas as a perquisite upon the
sealing of their leases. The Editor not very long
since knew of a baronet's lady accepting fifty guineas
as sealing money, upon closing a bargain for a consi-
derable farm.

Page 12. Sir Murtaghgrerv mad. — Sir Murtagh
grew angry.

Page 12. The whole kitchen rvas out on the stairs
— means that all the inhabitants of the kitchen came

GLOSSARY. 109

out of the kitchen, and stood upon the stairs. These,
and similar expressions, show how much the Irish are
disposed to metaphor and amplification.

Page 16. Fining down the yearly rent. — When
an Irish gentleman, like sir Kit Rackrent, has lived
beyond his income, and finds himself distressed for
ready money, tenants obligingly offer to take his land
at a rent far below the value, and to pay him a small
sum of money in hand, which they call fining down
the yearly rent. The temptation of this ready cash
often blinds the landlord to his future interest.

Page 16. Driver. — A man who is employed to
drive tenants for rent ; that is, to drive the cattle
belonging to tenants to pound. The office of driver
is by no means a sinecure.

Page 16. / thought to make him a priest. — It was
customary amongst those of Thady's rank in Ireland,
whenever they could get a little money, to send their
sons abroad to St. Omer's, or to Spain, to be educated
as priests. Now they are educated at Maynooth.
The Editor has lately known a young lad, who began
by being a post-boy, afterwards turn into a carpenter,
then quit his plane and work-bench to study his Hu-
manities, as he said, at the college of Maynooth ; but
after he had gone through his course of Humanities,
he determined to be a soldier instead of a priest.

Page 19. Flam. — Short for flambeau.

110 GLOSSARY.

Page 21. Barrack-room. — Formerly it was cus-
tomary, in gentlemen's houses in Ireland, to fit up
one large bedchamber with a number of beds for the
reception of occasional visitors. These rooms were
called Barrack-rooms.

Page 21. An innocent — in Ireland, means a sim-
pleton, and idiot.

Page 30. The Curragh — is the Newmarket of
Ireland.

Page 30. The cant.— The auction.

Page 35. And so should cut him off for ever, by
levying a Jine, and stijfering a recovery to dock the
entail. — The English reader may perhaps be surprised
at the extent of Thady's legal knowledge, and at the
fluency with which he pours forth law-terms; but
almost every poor man in Ireland, be he farmer,
weaver, shopkeeper, or steward, is, beside his other
occupations, occasionally a lawyer. The nature of pro-
cesses, ejectments, custodiams, injunctions, replevins,
&c. is perfectly known to them, and the terms as fa-
miliar to them as to any attorney. They all love law.
It is a kind of lottery, in which every man, staking his
own wit or cunning against his neighbour's property,
feels that he has little to lose, and much to gain.

"I'll have the law of you, so I will! "is the saying of
an Englishman who expects justice. " I'll have you
before his honour " is the threat of an Irishman who

GLOSSARY. Ill

hopes for partiality. Miserable is the life of a justice
of the peace in Ireland the day after a fair, especially
if he resides near a small town. The multitude of
the kilt (kilt does not mean kitted, but hurt) and
wounded who come before his honour with black eyes
or bloody heads is astonishing : but more astonishing
is the number of those who, though they are scarcely
able by daily labour to procure daily food, will never-
theless, without the least reluctance, waste six or
seven hours of the day lounging in the yard or hall
of a justice of the peace, waiting to make some com-
plaint about — nothing. It is impossible to convince
them that time is money. They do not set any value
upon their own time, and they think that others
estimate theirs at less than nothing. Hence they
make no scruple of telling a justice of the peace a
story of an hour long about a tester (sixpence) ; and
if he grows impatient, they attribute it to some secret
prejudice which he entertains against them.

Their method is to get a story completely by heart,
and to tell it, as they call it, out of the face, that is,
from the beginning to the end, without interruption.

" Well, my good friend, I have seen you lounging
about these three hours in the yard ; what is your
business ? "

" Please your honour, it is what I want to speak
one word to your honour."

"Speak then, but be quick — What is the matter ? "

"The matter, please your honour, is nothing at-
all-at-all, only just about the grazing of a horse,
please your honour, that this man here sold me at

1 ] 2 GLOSSARY.

the fair of Gurtishannon last Shrove fair, which lay
down three times with myself, please your honour,
and kilt me; not to be telling your honour of how, no
later back than yesterday night, he lay down in the
house there within, and all the childer standing
round, and it was God's mercy he did not fall a- top of
them, or into the fire to burn himself. So, please
your honour, to-day I took him back to this man,
which owned him, and after a great deal to do I got
the mare again I swopped (exchanged) him for; but
he won't pay the grazing of the horse for the time I
had him, though he promised to pay the grazing in
case the horse din't answer ; and he never did a day's
work, good or bad, please your honour, all the time
he was with me, and I had the doctor to him five
times any how. And so, please your honour, it is
what I expect your honour will stand my friend, for
I'd sooner come to your honour for justice than to
any other in all Ireland. And so I brought him here
before your honour, and expect your honour will
make him pay me the grazing, or tell me, can I
process him for it at the next assizes, please your
honour ? "

The defendant now turning a quid of tobacco with
his tongue into some secret cavern in his mouth,
begins his defence with —

" Please your honour, under favour, and saving
your honour's presence, there's not a word of truth
in all this man has been saying from beginning to
end, upon my conscience, and I wouldn't, for the
value of the horse itself, grazing and all, be after

GLOSSARY 113

telling your honour a lie. For, please your honour,
I have a dependance upon your honour that you'll do
me justice, and not be listening to him or the like
of him. Please your honour, it's what he has brought
me before your honour, because he had a spite against
me about some oats I sold your honour, which he was
jealous of, and a shawl his wife got at my shister's
shop there without, and never paid for ; so I offered
to set the shawl against the grazing, and give him a
receipt in full of all demands, but he wouldn't out of
spite, please your honour ; so he brought me before
your honour, expecting your honour was mad with
me for cutting down the tree in the horse park,
which was none of my doing, please your honour — ill
luck to them that went and belied me to your honour
behind my back ! So if your honour is pleasing, I'll
tell you the whole truth about the horse that he
swopped against my mare out of the face. Last
Shrove fair I met this man, Jemmy Duffy, please
your 'honour, just at the corner of the road, where
the bridge is broken down, that your honour is to
have the presentment for this year — long life to you
for it ! And he was at that time coming from the
fair of Gurtishannon, and I the same way. ' How
are you, Jemmy?' says I. ' Very well, I thank ye,
kindly, Bryan,' says he ; ' shall we turn back to
Paddy Salmon's and take a naggin of whiskey to our
better acquaintance ? ' ' I don't care if I did, Jemmy/
says I ; ' only it is what I can't take the whiskey,
because I'm under an oath against it for a month/
Ever since, please your honour, the day your honour

114 GLOSSARY.

met me on the road, and observed to me I could
hardly stand, I had taken so much ; though upon my
conscience your honour wronged me greatly that same
time — ill luck to them that belied me behind my back
to your honour ! Well, please your honour, as I was
telling you, as he was taking the whiskey, and we
talking of one thing or t'other, he makes me an offer
to swop his mare that he couldn't sell at the fair of
Gurtishannon, because nobody would be troubled
with the beast, please your honour, against my horse,
and to oblige him I took the mare — sorrow take her !
and him along with her ! She kicked me a new car,
that was worth three pounds ten, to tatters the first
time I ever put her into it, and I expect your honour
will make him pay me the price of the car, any how,
before I pay the grazing, which I've no right to pay
at-all-at-all, only to oblige him. But I leave it all
to your honour ; and the whole grazing he ought to
be charging for the beast is but two and eightpence
halfpenny, any how, please your honour. So I'll
abide by what your honour says, good or bad. I'll
leave it all to your honour."

I'll leave it all to your honour — literally means, I'll
leare all the trouble to your honour.

The Editor knew a justice of the peace in Ireland,
who had such a dread of having it all left to his
honour, that he frequently gave the complainants the
sum about which they were disputing, to make peace
between them, and to get rid of the trouble of hearing
their stories out of the face. But he was soon cured
of this method of buying off disputes, by the increas-

GLOSSARY. ] ] 5

ing multitude of those who, out of pure regard to his
honour, came " to get justice from him, because they
would sooner come before him than before any man
in all Ireland."

Page 50. A raking pot of tea. — We should observe,
this custom has long since been banished from the
higher orders of Irish gentry. The mysteries of a
raking pot of tea, like those of the Bona Dea, are
supposed to be sacred to females ; but now and then
it has happened, that some of the male species, who
were either more audacious or more highly favoured
than the rest of their sex, have been admitted by
stealth to these orgies. The time when the festive
ceremony begins varies according to circumstances,
but it is never earlier than twelve o'clock at night ;
the joys of a raking pot of tea depending on its being
made in secret, and at an unseasonable hour. After
a ball, when the more discreet part of the company
has departed to rest, a few chosen female spirits, who
have footed it till they can foot it no longer, and till
the sleepy notes expire under the slurring hand of
the musician, retire to abedchamber, call the favourite
maid, who alone is admitted, bid her put down the
kettle, lock the door, and amidst as much giggling
and scrambling as possible, they get round a tea-table,
on which all manner of things are huddled together.
Then begin mutual railleries and mutual confidences
amongst the young ladies, and the faint scream and
the loud laugh is heard, and the romping for letters
and pocket-books begins, and gentlemen are called
i 2

116 GLOSSARY.

by their surnames, or by the general name of fellows !
pleasant fellows ! charming fellows ! odious fellows !
abominable fellows ! and then all prudish decorums
are forgotten, and then we might be convinced how
much the satirical poet was mistaken when he said,

" There is no woman where there's no reserve."

The merit of the original idea of a raking pot of
tea evidently belongs to the "washerwoman and the
laundry-maid. But why should not we have Low
life above stairs as well as High life belorv stairs ?

Page 52. We gained the day by this piece of'
honesty. — In a dispute which occurred some years ago
in Ireland, between Mr. E. and Mr. A!., about the
boundaries of a farm, an old tenant of Mr. M.'s cut
a sod from Mr. M.'s land, and inserted it in a spot
prepared for its reception in Mr. E.'s land ; so nicely
was it inserted, that no eye could detect the junction
of the grass. The old man, who was to give his
evidence as to the property, stood upon the inserted
sod when the viewers came, and swore that the ground
he then stood upon belonged to his landlord, Mr. M.

The Editor had flattered himself that the inge-
nious contrivance which Thady records, and the
similar subterfuge of this old Irishman, in the dis-
pute concerning boundaries, were instances of 'cute-
ness unparalleled in all but Irish story : an English
friend, however, has just mortified the Editor's na-
tional vanity by an account of the following custom,
which prevails in part of Shropshire. It is discre-

GLOSSARY. 117

ditable for women to appear abroad after the birth of
their children till they have been churched. To
avoid this reproach, and at the same time to enjoy
the pleasure of gadding, whenever a Mroman goes
abroad before she has been to church, she takes a tile
from the roof of her house, and puts it upon her
head: wearing this panoply all the time she pays her
visits, her conscience is perfectly at ease ; for she can
afterwards safely declare to the clergyman, that she
" has never been from under her own roof till she
came to be churched."

Page 55. Carton, or half carton. — Thady means
cartron, or half cartron. " According to the old
record in the black book of Dublin, a cantred is said
to contain 30 villatas terras, which are also called
quarters of land (quarterons, cartrons) ; every one of
which quarters must contain so much ground as will
pasture 400 cows, and 1 7 plough-lands. A knight's
fee was composed of 8 hydes, which amount to 160
acres, and that is generally deemed about a plough-
land."

The Editor was favoured by a learned friend with
the above extract, from a MS. of lord Totness's in
the Lambeth library.

Page 78. Wake. — A wake in England means a
festival held upon the anniversary of the saint of the
parish. At these wakes, rustic games, rustic con-
viviality, and rustic courtship, are pursued with all
the ardour and all the appetite which accompany such

118 GLOSSARY.

pleasures as occur but seldom. In Ireland a wake is
a midnight meeting, held professedly for the indul-
gence of holy sorrow, but usually it is converted into
orgies of unholy joy. When an Irish man or woman
of the lower order dies, the straw which composed
the bed, whether it has been contained in a bag to
form a mattress, or simply spread upon the earthen
floor, is immediately taken out of the house, and
burned before the cabin door, the family at the same
time setting up the death howl. The ears and eyes
of the neighbours being thus alarmed, they flock to
the house of the deceased, and by their vociferous
sympathy excite and at the same time soothe the
sorrows of the family.

It is curious to observe how good and bad are
mingled in human institutions. In countries which
were thinly inhabited, this custom prevented private
attempts against the lives of individuals, and formed
a kind of coroner's inquest upon the body which had
recently expired, and burning the straw upon which
the sick man lay became a simple preservative against
infection. At night the dead body is waked, that is
to say, all the friends and neighbours of the deceased
collect in a barn or stable, \vhere the corpse is laid
upon some boards, or an unhinged door, supported
upon stools, the face exposed, the rest of the body
covered with a white sheet. Round the body are
stuck in brass candlesticks, which have been borrowed
perhaps at five miles' distance, as many candles as the
poor person can beg or borrow, observing always to
have an odd number. Pipes and tobacco are first

GLOSSARY. 119

distributed, and then, according to the ability of the
deceased, cakes and ale, and sometimes whiskey, are
dealt to the company :

" Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,

Deal on your cakes and your wine,
For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day

Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine."

After a fit of universal sorrow, and the comfort of a
universal dram, the scandal of the neighbourhood, as
in higher circles, occupies the company. The young
lads and lasses romp with one another, and when the
father and mothers are at last overcome with sleep
and whiskey (vino el somno), the youth become more
enterprising, and are frequently successful. It is
said, that more matches are made at wakes than at
weddings.

Page 81. Kilt. — This word frequently occurs in
the preceding pages, where it means not killed, but
much hurt. In Ireland, not only cowards, but the
brave " die many times before their death." — There
kitting is no murder.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

Summos posse viros, et magna exempla daturos,
Vervecutn in patria, crassoque sub ae're nasci.

JUVENAL.

IRISH BULLS.

INTRODUCTION.

WHAT mortal, what fashionable mortal, is
there who has not, in the midst of a formidable
circle, been reduced to the embarrassment of
having nothing to say ? Who is there that has
not felt those oppressive fits of silence which
ensue after the weather, and the fashions, and
the politics, and the scandal, and all the common-
place topics of the day have been utterly ex-
hausted ? Who is there that, at such a time,
has not tried in vain to call up an idea, and
found that none would come when they did call,
or that all that came were impertinent, and must
be rejected, some as too grave, others too gay,
some too vulgar, some too refined for the hearers,
some relating to persons, others to circumstances
that must not be mentioned ? Not one will do !
and all this time the silence lasts, and the diffi-
culty of breaking it increases every instant in an
incalculable proportion.

124 INTRODUCTION.

Let it be some comfort to those whose polite
sensibility has laboured under such distress to be
assured, that they need never henceforward fear
to be reduced to similar dilemmas. They may
be insured for ever against such dangers at the
slight premium and upon the easy condition of
perusing the following little volume. It will
satisfy them that there is a subject which still
affords inexhausted and inexhaustible sources of
conversation, suited to all tastes, all ranks, all
individuals, democratic, aristocratic, commercial,
or philosophic ; suited to every company which
can be combined, purposely or fortuitously, in
this great metropolis, or in any of the most
remote parts of England, Wales, or Scotland.
There is a subject which dilates the heart of
every true Briton, which relaxes his muscles,
however rigid, to a smile, — which opens his lips,
however closed, to conversation. There is a
subject " which frets another's spleen to cure
our own," and which makes even the angelic
part of the creation laugh themselves mortal.
For who can forbear to laugh at the bare idea of
an Irish bull ?

Nor let any one apprehend that this subject
can ever become trite and vulgar. Custom
cannot stale its infinite variety. It is in the
main obvious, and palpable enough for every
common understanding ; yet it leads to disqui-

INTRODUCTION. 125

sitions of exquisite subtlety, it branches into
innumerable ramifications, and involves conse-
quences of surprising importance ; it may exer-
cise the ingenuity of the subtlest wit, the fancy
of the oddest humorist, the imagination of the
finest poet, and the judgment of the most pro-
found metaphysician. Moreover, this happy
subject is enveloped in all that doubt and con-
fusion which are so favourable to the reputation
of disputants, and which secures the glorious
possibility of talking incessantly, without being
stopped short by a definition or a demonstration.
For much as we have all heard and talked of
Irish bulls, it has never yet been decided what it
is that constitutes a bull. Incongruity of ideas,
says one. But this supposition touches too
closely upon the definition of wit, which, accord-
ing to the best authorities, Locke, Burke, and
Stewart, consists in an unexpected assemblage
of ideas, apparently discordant, but in which
some point of resemblance or aptitude is suddenly
discovered.

Then, perhaps, says another, the essence of a
bull lies in confusion of ideas. This sounds
plausible in theory, but it will not apply in
practice; for confusion of ideas is common to
both countries : for instance, was there not some
slight confusion of ideas in the mind of that
English student, who, when he was asked what

126

INTRODUCTION.

progress he had made in the study of medicine,
replied, " I hope I shall soon be qualified to be
a physician, for I think I am now able to cure a
child?"

To amend our bill, suppose we insert the word
laughable, and say that a laughable confusion
of ideas constitutes a bull. But have we not a
laughable confusion of ideas in our English poet
Blackmore's famous lines in Prince Arthur ? —

" A painted vest prince Vortigern had on,
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won."

We are sensible that, to many people, the
most vulgar Irish bull would appear more laugh-
able merely from its being Irish, — therefore we
cannot make the propensity to laughter in one
man the criterion of what is ridiculous in another ;
though we have a precedent for this mode of
judging in the laws of England, which are
allowed to be the perfection of human reason.
If a man swear that his neighbour has put him
in bodily fear, he may have the cause of his
terror sent to gaol ; thus the feelings of the
plaintiff become the measure of the defendant's
guilt. ' As we cannot extend this convenient
principle to all matters of taste, and all subjects
of risibility, we are still compelled to acknowledge
that no accurate definition of a bull has yet been

INTRODUCTION. 127

given. The essence of an Irish bull must be of
the most ethereal nature, for notwithstanding
the most indefatigable research, it has hitherto
escaped from analysis. The crucible always
breaks in the long-expected moment of pro-
jection : we have nevertheless the courage to
recommence the process in a new mode. Perhaps
by ascertaining what it is not, we may at last
discover what it is : we must distinguish the
genuine from the spurious, the original from all
imitations, the indigenous from the exotic ; in
short, it must be determined in what an Irish
bull essentially differs from a blunder, or in what
Irish blunders specifically differ from English
blunders, and from those of all other nations.
To elucidate these points, or to prove to the
satisfaction of all competent judges that they are
beyond the reach of the human understanding,
is the object of the following Essay concerning
the Nature of Bulls and Blunders.

CHAPTER I.

ORIGINALITY OF IRISH BULLS EXAMINED.

THE difficulty of selecting from the vulgar herd
of Irish bulls one that shall be entitled to the prize,
from the united merits of pre-eminent absurdity,
and indisputable originality, is greater than hasty
judges may imagine. Many bulls, reputed to be
bred and born in Ireland, are of foreign extraction ;
and many more, supposed to be unrivalled in their
kind, may be matched in all their capital points: for
instance, there is not a more celebrated bull than
Paddy Blake's. When Paddy heard an English
gentleman speaking of the fine echo at the lake of
Killarney, which repeats the sound forty times, he
very promptly observed, " Faith, that's nothing at
all to the echo in my father's garden, in the county
of Galway : if you say to it, ' How do you do, Paddy
Blake ? ' it will answer, ' Pretty well, I thank you,
sir.'"

Now this echo of Paddy Blake's, which has long
been the admiration of the world, is not a prodigy
unique in its kind ; it can be matched by one recorded
in the immortal works of the great lord Verulam.*

" I remember well," says this father of philosophy,

* Natural History, century in. p. 191. — Bacon produces it
to show that echoes will not readily return the letter S.

K 1

130 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

" that when I went to the echo at Port Charenton,
there was an old Parisian that took it to be the work
of spirits, and of good spirits, ' for/ said he, ' call
Satan, and the echo will not deliver back the devil's
name, but will say, ' Va t'en.' "

The Parisian echo is surely superior to the Hiber-
nian ! Paddy Blake's simply understood and prac-
tised the common rules of good breeding ; but the
Port Charenton echo is " instinct with spirit," and
endowed with a nice moral sense.

Amongst the famous bulls recorded by the illus-
trious Joe Miller, there is one which has been con-
tinually quoted as an example of original Irish genius.
An English gentleman was writing a letter in a
coffee-house, and perceiving that an Irishman sta-
tioned behind him was taking that liberty which
Hephsestion used with his friend Alexander, instead
of putting his seal upon the lips of the curious imper-
tinent, the English gentleman thought proper to
reprove the Hibernian, if not with delicacy, at least
with poetical justice : he concluded writing his letter
in these words : " I would say more, but a damned
tall Irishman is reading over my shoulder every word
I write."

" You lie, you scoundrel ! " said the self-convicted
Hibernian.

This blunder is unquestionably excellent ; but it
is not originally Irish : it comes, with other riches,
from the East, as the reader may find by looking into
a book by M. Galland, entitled, " The Remarkable
Sayings of the Eastern Nations."

ESSAY ON IHISH BULLS. 131

" A learned man was writing to a friend ; a trou-
blesome fellow was beside him, who was looking over
his shoulder at what he was writing. The learned
man, who perceived this, continued writing in these
words, ' If an impertinent chap, who stands beside
me, were not looking at what I write, I would'write
many other things to you, which should be known
only to you and to me.'

" The troublesome fellow, who was reading on,
now thought it incumbent upon him to speak, and
said, ' I swear to you, that I have not read or looked
at what you are writing.

" The learned man replied, 'Blockhead, as you
are, why then do you say to me what you are now
saying ? '" *

Making allowance for the difference of manners
in eastern and northern nations, there is, certainly,
such a similarity between this oriental anecdote
and Joe Miller's story, that we may conclude the

* " Un savant ecrivoit a un ami, et un importun etoit a cote
de lui, qui regardoit par dessus 1'epaule ce qu'il ecrivoit. Le
savant, qui s'en apperfut, ecrivit ceci a la place : si un imperti-
nent qui est a mon cote Tie regardoit pas ce que j'ecris, je vous
ecrirois encore plusieurs choses qui ne doivent £tre sues que de
vous et de moi. L'importun, qui lisoit toujours, prit la parole
et dit : ' Je vous jure que je n'ai regarde ni lu ce que vous
ecriviez.' Le savant repartit, ' Ignorant, que vous etes, pourquoi
me dites-vous done ce que vous dites ? ' " Les Paroles ftemar-
quables des Orientaux ; traduction de leurs outrages en Arabe, en
Person, et en Turc (sitieant la copie imprimee a Paris), a la Haye,
chez Louis et Henry Vandole, march'inds libraires, dans le Poolen, a
I'enseigne du Port Rogal, M.DC.XCIV.
K2

132 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

latter is stolen from the former. Now, an Irish
bull must be a species of blunder peculiar to Ireland ;
those that we have hitherto examined,, though they
may be called Irish bulls by the ignorant vulgar,
have no right, title, or claim to such a distinction.
We should invariably exclude from that class all
blunders which can be found in another country.
For instance, a speech of the celebrated Irish beauty,

lady C , has been called a bull ; but as a parallel

can be produced in the speech of an English noble-
man, it tells for nothing. When her ladyship was
presented at court, his majesty, George the Second,
politely hoped, " that, since her arrival in Eng-
land, she had been entertained with the gaieties of
London."

" O yes, please your majesty, I have seen every
sight in London worth seeing, except a coronation."

This naivete is certainly not equal to that of the
English earl marshal, who, when his king found
fault with some arrangement at his coronation, said,
" Please your majesty, I hope it will be better next
time."

A naivete of the same species entailed a heavy tax
upon the inhabitants of Beaune, in France. Beaune
is famous for burgundy ; and Henry the Fourth,
passing through his kingdom, stopped there, and was
well entertained by his loyal subjects. His Majesty
praised the burgundy which they set before him —
" It was excellent ! it was admirable ! "

" O, sire !" cried they, " do you think this excel-
lent ? we have muchjiner burgundy than this."

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 133

" Have you so ? then you can afford to pay for it,"
replied Harry the Fourth ; and he laid a double tax
thenceforward upon the burgundy of Beaune.

Of the same class of blunders is the following
speech, which we actually heard not long ago from
an Irishman : —

" Please your worship, he sent me to the devil,
and I came straight to your honour."

We thought this an original Irish blunder, till we
recollected its prototype in Marmontel's Annette and
Lubin. Lubin concludes his harangue with, " The
bailiff sent us to the devil, and we come to put our-
selves under your protection, my lord."*

The French at least in former times, were cele-
brated for politeness ; yet we meet with a naive
compliment of a Frenchman, which would have been
accounted a bull if it had been found in Ireland.

A gentleman was complimenting madame Denis
on the manner in which she had just acted Zara.
" To act that part," said she, " a person should be
young and handsome." " Ah, madam ! " replied the
complimenter na'ivement, " you are a complete proof
of the contrary." t

• " Le bailli nous donne au diable, et nous nous recommandons
a vous, monseigneur."

f On faisoit compliment a madame Denis de la fa^on dont elle
venoit de jouer Zaire.

" II faudroit," dit elle, " etre belle et jeune." " Ah, madame !"
ruprit le complimenteur naivement, " vous £tes bien la preuve du
contraire."

134 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

We know not any original Irish blunder superior
to this, unless it be that which lord Orford pro-
nounced to be the best bull that he ever heard.

" I hate that woman," said a gentleman, looking
at one who had been his nurse; " I hate that woman,
for she changed me at nurse."

Lord Orford particularly admires this bull, because
in the confusion of the blunderer's ideas he is not
clear even of his personal identity. Philosophers will
not perhaps be so ready as his lordship has been to
call this a blunder of the first magnitude. Those
\vho have never been initiated into the mysteries of
metaphysics may have the presumptuous ignorance
to fancy that they understand what is meant by the
common words /, or me ; but the able metaphysician
knows better than lord Orford's changeling how to
prove, to our satisfaction, that we know nothing of
the matter.

" Personal identity," says Locke, " consists not in
the identity of substance, but in the identity of con-
sciousness, wherein Socrates and the present mayor
of Quinborough agree they are the same person : if
the same Socrates, sleeping and waking, do not par-
take of the same consciousness, Socrates waking and
sleeping is not the same person; and to punish
Socrates waking for what sleeping Socrates thought,
and waking Socrates was never conscious of, would
be no more of right than to punish one twin for what
his brother twin did, whereof he knew nothing,
because their outsides are so like that they could

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 135

not be distinguished ; for such twins have been
seen." *

We may presume that our Hibernian's conscious-
ness could not retrograde to the time when he was
changed at nurse ; consequently there was no con-
tinuity of identity between the infant and the man
who expressed his hatred of the nurse for perpetrat-
ing the fraud. At all events, the confusion of iden-
tity which excited lord Orford's admiration in our
Hibernian is by no means unprecedented in France,
England, or ancient Greece, and consequently it
cannot be an instance of national idiosyncracy, or an
Irish bull. We find a similar blunder in Spain, in
the time of Cervantes : —

" Pray tell me, squire," says the duchess, in Don
Quixote, " is not your master the person whose
history is printed under the name of the sage Hidalgo
Don Quixote de la Mancha, who professes himself
the admirer of one Dulcinea del Toboso ? "

" The very same, my lady," answered Sancho;
" and I myself am that very squire of his, who is
mentioned, or ought to be mentioned, in that history,
unless they have changed me in the cradle"

In Moliere's Amphitrion there is a dialogue between
Mercure and Sosie evidently taken from the Attic
Lucian. Sosie being completely puzzled out of his
personal identity, if not out of his senses, says lite-
rally, " of my being myself I begin to doubt in good

• Locke's Essay concerning the Human Understanding, fif-
teenth edit. vol. i. p. 292.

136 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

earnest ; yet when I feel myself, and when I recollect
myself, it seems to me that / am I." *

We see that the puzzle about identity proves at
last to be of Grecian origin. It is really edifying to
observe how those things which have long been
objects of popular admiration shrink and fade when
exposed to the light of strict examination. An ex-
perienced critic proposed that a work should be
written to inquire into the pretensions of modern
writers to original invention, to trace their thefts,
and to restore the property to the ancient owners.
Such a work would require powers and erudition
beyond what can be expected from any ordinary
individual ; the labour must be shared amongst
numbers, and we are proud to assist in ascertaining
the rightful property even of bulls and blunders;
though without pretending, like some literary blood-
hounds, to follow up a plagiarism, where common
sagacity is at a fault.

* " De moi je commence a douter tout de bon.
Pourtant quand je me tate, et quand je me rapelle,
II me semble que je suis moi."

CHAPTER II.

IRISH NEWSPAPERS.

WE presume that we have successfully disputed
the claims imposed upon the public, in behalf of
certain spurious alien blunders, pretending to be
native, original Irish bulls ; and we shall now with
pleasure proceed to examine those which have better
titles to notice. Even nonsense ceases to be wor-
thy of attention and public favour, unless it be
original.

" Dear lady Emily," says Miss Allscrip, in the
excellent comedy of the Heiress — " Dear lady Emily,
don't you dote upon folly ? "

" To ecstacy ! " replies her ladyship ; " I only
despair of seeing it well kept up."

We flatter ourselves, " there is no great danger of
that," for we have the Irish newspapers before us,
where, no doubt, we shall find a fresh harvest of in-
digenous absurdity ripe for the sickle.

The first advertisement that meets our eye is pro-
mising.

It is the late proclamation of an Irish mayor, in
which we are informed, that certain business is to be
transacted in that city " every Monday (Easter
Sunday only excepted)." This seems rather an un-
necessary exception ; but it is not an inadvertency,

138 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

caused by any hurry of business in his worship ; it
is deliberately copied from a precedent, set in
England, by a baronet formerly well known in par-
liament, who, in the preamble to a bill, proposed
that certain regulations should take place " on every
Monday (Tuesday excepted)." We fear, also, that
an English mayor has been known to blunder. Some
years ago the mayor of a capital English city pub-
lished a proclamation and advertisement, previous
to the races, " that no gentleman will be allowed to
ride on the course, but the horses that are to run."
A mayor's blundering proclamation is not, however,
worth half so much in the eye of ridicule as a lord
lieutenant's.

" A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn."

A bull on the throne is worth twice as much as a
bull in the chair.

" By the lord lieutenant and council of Ireland.
" A proclamation.

* * * *

)

" Whereas the greatest economy is necessary in
the consumption of all species of grain, and, espe-
cially in the consumption of potatoes, fyc.

" Given at the council chamber in Dublin."

This is the first time we have been informed, by
authority, that potatoes are a species of grain ; but
we must accede to this new botanical arrangement,
when published under such splendid auspices. The
assertion certainly is not made in distinct terms :

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 139

but all who understand the construction of language
must imply the conclusion that we draw from these
premises. A general position is in the first member
of the sentence laid down, " thai the greatest economy
is necessary in the consumption of all species of grain"
A particular exemplification of the principle is made
in the next clause, " especially in the consumption of
potatoes"

The inference is as plain as can be made.

The next article in our newspaper is an advertise-
ment of lands to be let to an improving tenant : —
" A few miles from Cork, in a most sporting country,
bounded by an uncommon Jine turf bog, on the verge
of which there are a number of fine lime kilns, where
that manure may be had on very moderate terms,
the distance for carriage not being many hundred
yards. The whole lands being now in great heart,
and completely laid down, entirely surrounded and
divided by impenetrable furze ditches, made of quarried
stone laid edgeways"

It \rill be a matter of difficulty to the untravelled
English reader to comprehend how furze ditches can
be made of quarried stones laid edgeways, or any
way; and we fear that we should only puzzle his
intellects still more if we should attempt to explain
to him the mysteries of Irish ditching in the tech-
nical terms of the country. With the face of a
ditch he may be acquainted, but to the back and
gripe, and bottom of the gripe, and top of the back
of a ditch, we fear he is still to be introduced.

We can never sufficiently admire these furze

140 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

ditches made of quarried stones ; they can, indeed,
be found only in Ireland ; but we have heard in
England of things almost as extraordinary. Dr.
Grey, in his erudite and entertaining notes on
Hudibras, records the deposition of a lawyer, who,
in an action of battery, told the judge " that the
defendant beat his client with a certain wooden in-
strument called an iron pestle" Nay, to go further
still, a wise annotator on the Pentateuch, named
Peter Harrison, observed of Moses's two tables of
stone, that they were made of shiltim-ivood. The
gtone furze ditches are scarcely bolder instances of
the catachresis than the stone tables of shittim-wood.
This bold figure of rhetoric in an Irish advertise-
ment of an estate may lead us to expect that Hiber-
nian advertisers may, in time, emulate the fame of
Christie, the prince of auctioneers, whose fine de-
scriptive powers can make more of an estate on
paper than ever was made of it in any other shape,
except in the form of an ejectment. The fictions of
law, indeed, surpass even the auctioneer's imagina-
tion ; and a man may be said never to know the extent
of his own possessions until he is served with a process
of ejectment. He then finds himself required to give
up the possession of a multitude of barns, orchards,
fish-ponds, horse-ponds, dwelling-houses, pigeon-
houses, dove-cotes, out-houses, and appurtenances,
which he never saw or heard of, and which are
nowhere to be found upon the surface of the habit-
able globe ; so that Are cannot really express this
English legal transaction without being guilty of an

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 141

Irish bull, and saying that the person ejected is
ousted from places which he never entered.

To proceed with our newspapers. — The next ad-
vertisement is from a schoolmaster : but we shall not
descant upon its grammatical errors, because they are
not blunders peculiar to Irish schoolmasters. We
have frequently observed that the advertisements of
schoolmasters, even in England, are seldom free
from solecisms : too much care in writing, it seems,
is almost as bad as too little. In the preface of the
dictionary of the French Academy, there are, as it
is computed by an able French critic, no less than
sixteen faults ; and in Harris, the celebrated gram-
marian's dedication of his Hermes, there is one bull,
and almost as many faults as lines. It appears as if
the most precise and learned writers sometimes, like
the ladies in one of Congreve's plays, " run into the
danger to avoid the apprehension."

After a careful scrutiny of the Hibernian adver-
tisements, we are compelled to confess that we have
not met with any blunders that more nearly resemble
our notion of an Irish bull than one which, some
years ago, appeared in our English papers. It was
the title to an advertisement of a washing machine,
in these words : " Every Man his own Washer-
woman ! " We have this day, Nov. 19, 1807^ seen
the following : " This day were published, Memoirs
of the Life of Mrs. Elizabeth Carter, with a new
edition of her Poems, some of which have never
before appeared." And an eye-witness assures us,
that lately he saw an advertisement in the following

142 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

terms stuck up on the walls of an English coffee-
house : " This coffee-house removed up-stairs ! "

A Roman emperor used to draw his stairs up after
him every night into his bedchamber, and we have
heard of throwing a house out of the windows ; but
drawing a whole house up into itself is new.

How can we account for such a blunder, in an ad-
vertisement on the wall of an English coffee-house,
except by supposing that it was penned by an Irish
waiter ? If that were the case, it would be an
admirable example of an Irish bull ! and therefore
we had best take it for granted.

Let not any conscientious person be startled at the
mode of reasoning by which we have convicted an
imaginary Irish waiter of a real bull : it is at least
as good, if not better logic, than that which was
successfully employed in the time of the popish plot,
to convict an Irish physician of forgery. The matter
is thus recorded by L'Estrange. The Irish physi-
cian " was charged with writing a treasonable libel,
but denied the thing, and appealed to the unlikeness
of the characters. It was agreed that there was
no resemblance at all in the hands ; but asserted
that the doctor had two hands ; his physic hand and
his plot hand, and the one not a jot like the other.
Now this was the doctor's plot hand, and it was in-
sisted that, because it was not like one of his hands,
it must be like the other."

By this convenient mode of reasoning, an Irish-
man may, at any time, be convicted of any crime, or
of any absurdity.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 143

But what have we next in our newspaper? —
" Murder, Robbery, and Reward." This seems a
strange connexion of things, according to our vulgar
notions of distributive justice ; but we are told that
the wicked shall have their reward even in this
world ; and we suppose it is upon this principle, that
over the stocks in a town in Ireland there appears
this inscription : " A reward for vagabonds."

Upon proceeding further in our advertisement,
which begins with " Murder, Robbery, and Reward,"
we find, however, that contrary to the just expecta-
tions raised by the title, the reward is promised, not
to the robbers and murderers, but to those who shall
discover and prosecute them to conviction. Here
we were led into error by that hasty mode of elision
which sometimes obtains in the titles even of our
English law processes ; as sci-fa, fi-fa, qui-tam, &c. ;
names which, to preserve the glorious uncertainty of
the law, never refer to the sense, but to the first
words of the writs.

In our newspaper, a formidable list of unanimous
resolutions of various committees and corps succeeds
to the advertisement of murder, robbery, and re-
ward ; and we have, at the close of each day's
business, thanksgivings, in various formulas, for
the very proper, upright, or spirited behaviour
of our worthy, gallant, or respected chairman. Now
that a man may behave properly, or sit uprightly in
a chair, we can readily comprehend ; but what are
we to understand by a spirited behaviour in a chair ?

144 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

Perhaps it alludes to the famous duel fought by a
gouty Irish gentleman in his arm chair. As the
gallant chairman actually in that position shot his
adversary, it behoves us to understand the meaning
of spirited behaviour in the chair.

We may, however, venture to hint, fas est et ab
hoste doceri, that in the publication of corps and
committees, this formula should be omitted — "Re-
solved unanimously (with only one dissentient voice)."
Here the obloquy, meant to rest on the one dissen-
tient voice, unfortunately falls upon the publishers
of the disgrace, exposing them to the ridicule of
resolving an Irish bull. If this be a bull, how-
ever, we are concerned to find it is matched by
that of the government of Munich, who published a
catalogue of forbidden books, and afterwards, under
heavy penalties, forbade the reading of the cata-
logue. But this might be done in the hurry occa-
sioned by the just dread of revolutionary principles.

What shall we say for the blunder of a French
academician, in a time of profound peace, who gave
it as his opinion, that nothing should be read in the
public sittings of the academy " par dela ce qui est
impose par les statuts : il motivait son avis en disant
— En fait d'inutilites il ne faut que le necessaire"
If this speech had been made by a member of the
Royal Irish Academy, it would have had the honour
to be noticed all over England as a bull. The honour
to be noticed, we say, in imitation of the exquisitely
polite expression of a correspondent of the English

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 145

Royal Society, who talks of " the earthquake that
had the honour to be noticed by the Royal
Society."

It will, we fear, be long before the Irish emerge
so far from barbarism as to write in this style. The
Irish are, however, we are happy to observe, making
some little approaches to a refined and courtly style ;
kings, and in imitation of them, great men, and all
who think themselves great — a numerous class —
speak and write as much as possible in the plural
number instead of the singular. Instead of /, they
always say we; instead of my, our, according to the
Italian idiom, which flatters this humour so far as to
make it a point of indispensable politeness. It is,
doubtless, in humble imitation of such illustrious
examples, that an Irishman of the lowest class, when
he means to express that he is a member of a com-
mittee, says, / am a committee; thus consolidating
the power, wisdom, and virtue of a whole committee
in his own person. Superior even to the Indian,
who believes that he shall inherit the powers and
virtues of his enemies after he has destroyed them ; *
this committee-man takes possession of the faculties
of his living friends and associates. When some of
the united men, as they called themselves, were exa-
mined, they frequently answered to the questions,
who, or what are you ? I am a com'mittee.

"So Indian murd'rers hope te gain
The powers and virtues of the slain,
Of wretches they destroy."

146 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

However extraordinary it may at first sound, to
hear one man assert that he is a whole committee, it
is not more wonderful than that the whole par-
liament of Bordeaux should be found in a one-horse
chair.*

We forbear to descant further upon Irish com-
mittee-men, lest we should call to mind, merely by
the similarity of name, the times when England had
her committee-men, who were not perfectly free
from all tinge of absurdity. It is remarkable, that
in times of popular ferment, a variety of new terms
are coined to serve purposes and passions of the
moment. In the days of the English committee-
men this practice had risen to such a height, that it
M^as fair game for ridicule. Accordingly, sir John
Birkenhead, about that time, found it necessary to
publish " The Children's Dictionary ; an exact Col-
lection of all New Words born since Nov. 3, 1 640, in
Speeches, Prayers, and Sermons, as well those that
signify something as nothing." We observe that it
has been likewise found necessary to publish, in
France, une Dictionnaire neologique, a dictionary of
the new terms adopted since the revolution.

It must be supposed, that during the late dis-
turbances in Ireland, many cant terms have been
brought into use, which are not yet to be reckoned
amongst the acknowledged terms of the country.
However absurd these may be, they are not for our
purpose proper subjects of animadversion. Some

* Vide Memoires du Cardinal de Retz.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 147

countries have their birds of passage, and some their
follies of passage, which it is scarcely worth while to
shoot as they fly. It has been often said, that the
language of a people is a just criterion of their pro-
gress in civilization ; but we must not take a speci-
men of their vocabulary during the immediate pre-
valence of any transient passion or prejudice. It is
to be hoped, that all party barbarisms in language
will now be disused and forgotten ; for some time
has elapsed since we read the following article of
country intelligence in a Dublin paper: —

" General scoured the country yesterday,

but had not the good fortune to meet with a single
rebel."

The author of this paragraph seems to have been
a keen sportsman ; he regrets the not meeting with
a single rebel, as he would the not meeting with a
single hare or partridge; and he justly considers
the human biped as fair game, to be hunted down
by all who are properly qualified and licensed by
government. To the English, perhaps, it may seem
a strange subject of lamentation, that a general
could not meet with a single rebel in the county of
Wicklow, when they have so lately been informed,
from the high authority of a noble lord, that Ireland
was so disturbed, that whenever he went out, he
called as regularly for his pistols as for his hat and
gloves. Possibly, however, this was only a figure of
speech, like that of bishop Wilkins, who prophesied
that the time would come when gentlemen, when
they were to go a journey, would call for their wings

L2

148 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

as regularly as they call for their boots — We be-
lieve that the hyperboles of the privy-counsellor and
the bishop are of equal magnitude.

CHAPTER III.

THE CRIMINAL LAW OP BULLS AND BLUNDERS.

MADAME de Sevigne observes, that there are few
people sufficiently candid, or sufficiently enlightened,
to distinguish, in their judgments of others, be-
tween those faults and mistakes which proceed from
manque d'esprit, and those which arise merely from
manque d'usage. We cannot appreciate the talents
or character of foreigners, without making allow-
ance for their ignorance of our manners, of the
idiom of our language, and the multifarious signifi-
cations of some of our words. A French gentleman,
who dined in London, in company with the cele-
brated author of the Rambler, wishing to show him
a mark of peculiar respect, drank Dr. Johnson's
health in these words : " Your health, Mr. Vaga-
bond." Assuredly no well-judging Englishman
would undervalue the Frenchman's abilities, be-
cause he mistook the meaning of the words Vaga-
bond and Rambler ; he would recollect, that in old
English and modern French authors, vagabond

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 149

means wanderer : des eaux vagabondes is a phrase
far from inelegant. But independently of this con-
sideration, no well-bred gentleman would put a
foreigner out of countenance by openly laughing at
such a mistake : he would imitate the politeness of
the Frenchman, who, when Dr. Moore said, " I am
afraid the expression I have just used is not
French," replied, "Non, monsieur — mais il merite
bien de 1'etre." It would, indeed, be a great stretch
of politeness to extend this to our Irish neighbours:
for no Irishism can ever deserve to be Anglicised,
though so many Gallicisms have of late not only
been naturalized in England, but even adopted by
the most fashionable speakers and writers. The
mistaking a feminine for a masculine noun, or a
masculine for a feminine, must, in all probability,
have happened to every Englishman that ever
opened his lips in Paris ; yet without losing his re-
putation for common sense. But when a poor Irish
haymaker, who had but just learned a few phrases
of the English language by rote, mistook a feminine
for a masculine noun, and began his speech in a
court of justice with these words : " My lord, I am a
poor widow," instead of, "My lord, I am a poor
widower ;" it was sufficient to throw a grave judge
and jury into convulsions of laughter. It was for-
merly, in law, no murder to kill a merus Hibernians ;
and it is to this day no offence against good manners
to laugh at any of this species. It is of a thousand
times more consequence to have the laugh than the
argument on our side, as all those know full well

150 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

who have any experience in the management of the
great or little vulgar. By the common custom and
courtesy of England we have the laugh on our side :
let us keep it by all means. All means are justi-
fiable to obtain a great end, as all great men main-
tain in practice, if not in theory. We need not, in
imitating them, have any scruples of conscience ;
we need not apprehend, that to ridicule our Hiber-
nian neighbours unmercifully is unfriendly or unge-
nerous. Nations, it has been well observed, are
never generous in their conduct towards each other.
We must follow the common custom of nations where
we have no law to guide our proceedings. We must
therefore carefully continue the laudable practice of
ridiculing the blunders, whether real or imaginary,
of Irishmen. In conversation, Englishmen are per-
mitted sometimes to blunder, but without ever being
called blunderers. It would, indeed, be an intoler-
able restraint upon social intercourse, if every man
were subject to be taxed for each inaccuracy of lan-
guage— if he were compelled to talk, upon all occa-
sions, as if he were amenable to a star-chamber of
criticism, and surrounded by informers.

Much must be allowed in England for the licence
of conversation ; but by no means must this conver-
sation-licence be extended to the Irish. If, for
instance, at the convivial hour of dinner, when men
are not usually intent upon grammatical or mathe-
matical niceties, an Irish gentleman desires him
" who rules his roast," to cut the sirloin of beef
horizontally downwards, let the mistake immediately

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 151

be set down in our note-books, and conned over, and
got' by heart ; and let it be repeated to all eternity
as a bull. But if an English lady observe, when the
candles have long stood unsnuffed, that " those
odious long wicks will soon grow up to the ceiling,"
she can be accused only of an error of vision. We
conjure our readers to attend to these distinctions in
their intercourse with their Hibernian neighbours :
it must be done habitually and technically ; and we
must not listen to what is called reason ; we must not
enter into any argument, pro or con, but silence
every Irish opponent, if we can, with a laugh.

The abbe Girard, in his accurate work, " Syno-
nymes Fra^ois," makes a plausible distinction
between une dne et un ignorant; he says, " On est
ane par disposition: on est ignorant par defaut
d'instruction." An ignorant person may certainly,
even in the very circumstances which betray his
ignorance, evince considerable ability. For instance,
the native Indian, who for the first time saw a
bottle of porter uncorked, and who expressed great
astonishment at the quantity of froth which he saw
burst from the bottle, and much curiosity to know
whether it could all be put in again, showed even in
his ignorance a degree of capacity, which in different
situations might have saved his life, or have made
his fortune. In the situation of the poor fisherman,
and the great giant of smoke, who issued from the
small vessel, well known to all versed in the Arabian
Tales, such acuteness would have saved his life ; and
a similar spirit of inquiry, applied to chemistry.

152 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

might, in modern times, have made his fortune.
Even where no positive abilities are displayed at the
time by those who manifest ignorance, we should
not (except the culprits be natives of Ireland) hastily
give them up. Ignorance of the most common
objects is not only incident to certain situations, but
absolutely unavoidable; and the individuals placed
in those situations are no more blameable than they
would be for becoming blind in the snows of Lap-
land, or for having goitres amongst the Cretins of Le
Vallais. Would you blame the ignorant nuns who,
insensible of the danger of an eruption of Mount
Vesuvius,* warmed themselves at the burning lava
which flowed up to the windows of their cells ? or
would you think the French canoness an idiot who,
at the age of fifty, was, on account of her health, to
go out of her convent, and asked, when she met a
cow for the first time, what strange animal that was ?
or would you think that those poor children deserved
to be stigmatised as fools, who, after being confined
for a couple of years in an English workhouse,
actually at eight years old had forgotten the names
of a pig and a calfrt their ignorance was surely
more deplorable than ridiculous. When the London
young lady kept a collection of chicken-bones on her
plate at dinner, as a bonne-bouche for her brother's

* Vide Sir W. Hamilton's account of an eruption of Mount
Vesuvius.

•f This fact, we believe, is mentioned in a letter of Mrs.
Cappe's on parish schools.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 153

horse,* Dr. Johnson would not suffer her to be called
an idiot, but very judiciously defended her, by
maintaining, that her action merely demonstrated
her ignorant of points of natural history, on which a
London miss had no immediate opportunity of ob-
taining information. Had the world always judged
upon such subjects with similar candour, the re-
proachful cant term of cockney would never have
been disgracefully naturalised in the English lan-
guage. This word, as we are informed by a learned
philologist, originated from the mistake of a learned
citizen's son, who having been bred up entirely in
the metropolis, was so gloriously ignorant of country
life and country animals, that the first time he heard
a cock crow, he called it neighing. If such a mis-
take had been made by an Irishman, it would surely
have been called a bull : it has, at least, as good pre-
tensions to the title as many mistakes made by
ignorant Hibernians ; for instance, the well-known
blunder relative to the sphinx : — An uninformed
Irishman, hearing the sphinx alluded to in company,
whispered to a friend, " The sphinx ! who is that
now ? "

" A monster, man."

" Oh, a Munster-man : I thought he was from
Connaught/' replied our Irishman, determined not
to seem totally unacquainted with the family.
Gross and ridiculous as this blunder appears, we are
compelled by candour to allow, that the affectation

* Vide Mrs. Piozzi's English Synonymy.

154 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

of showing knowledge has betrayed to shame men
far superior to our Hibernian, both in reputation
and in the means of acquiring knowledge.

Cardinal Richelieu, the Mecaenas or would-be
Mecsenas of France, once mistook the name of a
noted grammarian, Maurus Terentianus, for a play
of Terence's. This is called by the French \vriter
who records it, " une bevue bien grossiere." How-
ever gross, a mistake can never be made into a bull.
We find bevues French, English, Italian, German,
Latin, and Greek, of theologians, historians, anti-
quarians, poets, critics, and translators, without
end. The learned Budseus takes Sir Thomas
More's Utopia for a true history; and proposes
sending missionaries to work the conversion of so
wise a people as the Utopians. An English anti-
quarian* mistakes a tomb in a Gothic cathedral for
the tomb of Hector. Pope, our great poet, and
prince of translators, mistakes Dec. the 8th, Nov.
the 5th, of Cinthio, for Dec. 8th, Nov. 5th; and
Warburton, his learned critic, improves upon the
blunder, by afterward writing the words December
and November at full length. Better still, because
more comic, is the blunder of a Frenchman, who,
puzzled by the title of one of Gibber's plays, " Love's
Last Shift," translates it " La Derniere Chemise de
1'Amour." We laugh at these mistakes, and forget
them ; but who can forget the blunder of the Cork
almanac-maker, who informs the world that the

* John Lydgate.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 155

principal republics in Europe are Venice, Holland,
and America ?

The blunders of men of all countries, except
Ireland, do not affix an indelible stigma upon
individual or national character. A free pardon is,
and ought to be, granted by every Englishman to
the vernacular and literary errors of those who have
the happiness to be born subjects of Great Britain.
What enviable privileges are annexed to the birth of
an Englishman ! and what a misfortune it is to be a
native of Ireland !

CHAPTER IV.

LITTLE DOMIN1CK.

WE have laid down the general law of bulls and
blunders ; but, as there is no rule without an excep-
tion, we may perhaps allow an exception in favour of
little Dominick.

Little Dominick was born at Fort-Reilly, in
Ireland, and bred nowhere until his tenth year, when
he was sent to Wales to learn manners and grammar
at the school of Mr. Owen ap Davies ap Jenkins ap
Jones. This gentleman had reason to think himself
the greatest of men ; for he had over his chimney-
piece a well-smoked genealogy, duly attested, tracing
his ancestry in a direct line up to Noah ; and more-
over he was nearly related to the learned etymologist,

156 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

who, in the time of Queen Elizabeth, wrote a folio
to prove that the language of Adam and Eve in
Paradise was pure Welsh. With such causes to be
proud, Mr. Owen ap Davies ap Jenkins ap Jones
was excusable for sometimes seeming to forget that
a schoolmaster is but a man. He, however, some-
times entirely forgot that a boy is but a boy ; and
this happened most frequently with respect to little
Dominick.

This unlucky wight was flogged every morning
by his master, not for his vices, but for his vicious
constructions, and laughed at by his companions
every evening for his idiomatic absurdities. They
would probably have been inclined to sympathise in
his misfortunes, but that he was the only Irish boy
at school ; and as he was at a distance from all his
relations, and without a friend to take his part, he
was a just object of obloquy and derision. Every
sentence he spoke was a bull ; every two words he
put together proved a false concord ; and every sound
he articulated betrayed the brogue. But as he pos-
sessed some of the characteristic boldness of those
who have been dipped in the Shannon, he showed
himself able and willing to fight his own battles
with the host of foes by whom he was encompassed.
Some of these, it was said, were of nearly twice his
stature. This may be exaggerated, but it is certain
that our hero sometimes ventured with sly Irish
humour to revenge himself upon his most powerful
tyrant by mimicking the Welsh accent, in which
Mr. Owen ap Jones said to him, " Cot pless me,

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 157

you plockit, and shall I never learn you Enclish
crammer ? "

It was whispered in the ear of this Dionysius, that
our little hero was a mimick ; and he was treated
with increased severity.

The midsummer holydays approached ; but he
feared that they would shine no holydays for him.
He had written to his mother to tell her that school
would break up the 21st, and to beg an answer,
without fail, by return of post; but no answer
came.

It was now nearly two months since he had heard
from his dear mother or any of his friends in Ire-
land. His spirits began to sink under the pressure
of these accumulated misfortunes: he slept little,
ate less, and played not at all ; indeed nobody would
play with him upon equal terms, because he Mas
nobody's equal ; his schoolfellows continued to con-
sider him as a being, if not of a different species, at
least of a different caste from themselves.

Mr. Owen ap Jones's triumph over the little Irish
plockit was nearly complete, for the boy's heart was
almost broken, when there came to the school a new
scholar — O, how unlike the others ! His name was
Edwards ; he was the son of a neighbouring Welsh
gentleman; and he had himself the spirit of a
gentleman. When he saw how poor Dominick was
persecuted, he took him under his protection, fought
his battles with the Welsh boys, and, instead of
laughing at him for speaking Irish, he endeavoured
to teach him to speak English. In his answers to

158 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

the first question Edwards ever asked him, little
Dominick made two blunders, which set all his other
companions in a roar ; yet Edwards would not allow
them to be genuine bulls.

In answer to the question, " Who is your father ? "
Dominick said, with a deep sigh, " I have no father
— I am an orphan* — I have only a mother."

" Have you any brothers and sisters ? "

"No; I wish 1 had; perhaps they would love
me, and not laugh at me," said Dominick, with
tea*s in his eyes ; " but I have no brothers but
myself."

One day Mr. Jones came into the school-room
with an open letter in his hand, saying, " Here,
you little Irish plockit, here's a letter from your
mother."

The little Irish blockhead started from his form,
and, throwing his grammar on the floor, leaped up
higher than he or any boy in the school had ever
been seen to leap before, and, clapping his hands, he
exclaimed, "A letter from my mother ! And will I
hear the letter ? And will I see her once more ?
And will I go home these holydays ? O, then I will
be too happy ! "

" There's no tanger of that," said Mr. Owen ap
Jones ; "for your mother, like a wise ooman, writes
me here, that py the atvice of your cardian, to oom
she is coing to be married, she will not pring you

* Iliad, 6th book, 1. 432, Andromache says to Hector, " You
will make your son an orphan, and your wife a widow."

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS, 159

home to Ireland till I send her word you are perfect
in your Enclish crammer at least."

" I have my lesson perfect, sir," said Dominick,
taking his grammar up from the floor, " tvill I say
it now ? "

" Will I say it now ? No, you plockit, no ; and I
will write your mother word you have proke Pris-
cian's head four times this tay, since her letter came.
You Irish plockit ! " continued the relentless gram-
marian, " will you never learn the tifference between
shall and tvill ? Will I hear the letter, and will I
see her once more ? What Enclish is this, plockit ? "

The Welsh boys all grinned, except Edwards, who
hummed, loud enough to be heard, two lines of the
good old English song,

" And will I see him once again ?
And will I hear him speak ? "

Many of the boys were fortunately too ignorant to
feel the force of the quotation ; but Mr. Owen ap
Jones understood it, turned upon his heel, and
walked off. Soon afterwards he summoned Domi-
nick to his awful desk ; and, pointing with his ruler
to the following page in Harris's Hermes, bade him
" reat it, and understant it, if he could." Little
Dominick read, but could not understand.

" Then read it loud, you plockit."

Dominick read aloud —

" There is noihing appears so clearly an object of
the mind or intellect only as the future does, since

160 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

we can find no place for its existence any where else:
not but the same, if we consider, is equally true of
the past "

"Well, co on — What stops the plockit? Can't
you reat Enclish now ? "

" Yes, sir ; but I was trying to understand it. I
was considering, that this is like what they would
call an Irish bull, if I had said it."

Little Dominick could not explain what he meant
in English, that Mr. Owen ap Jones would under-
stand ; and, to punish him for his impertinent
observation, the boy was doomed to learn all that
Harris and Lowth have written to explain the nature
of shall and will. The reader, if he be desirous of
knowing the full extent of the penance enjoined,
may consult Lowth's Grammar, p. 52, ed. 1799? and
Harris's Hermes, p. 10, 11, and 12, 4th edition.
Undismayed at the length of his task, little Dominick
only said, " I hope, if I say it all without missing a
word, you will not give my mother a bad account of
me and my grammar studies, sir."

" Say it all first, without missing a word, and
then I shall see what I shall say," replied Mr. Owen
ap Jones.

Even the encouragement of this oracular answer
excited the boy's fond hopes so keenly, that he lent
his little soul to the task, learned it perfectly, said
it at night, without missing one word, to his friend
Edwards, and said it the next morning, without
missing one word, to his master.

" And now, sir," said the boy, looking up, " will

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 161

you write to my mother ? And shall I see her ? And
shall I go home ? "

" Tell me first, whether youunderstant all this that
you have learnt so cliply," said Mr. Owen ap Jones.

That was more than his bond. Our hero's coun-
tenance fell : and he acknowledged that he did not
understand it perfectly.

" Then I cannot write a coot account of you and
your crammer studies to your mother ; my conscience
coes against it," said the conscientious Mr. Owen ap
Jones.

No entreaties could move him. Dominick never
saw the letter that was written to his mother ; but
he felt the consequence. She wrote word this time
punctually by return of the post, that she was sorry
that she could not send for him home these holydays,
as she heard so bad an account from Mr. Jones, &c.
and as she thought it her duty not to interrupt the
course of his education, especially his grammar stu-
dies. Little Dominick heaved many a sigh when he
saw the packings up of all his school-fellows, and
dropped a few tears as he looked out of the window,
and saw them, one after another, get on their Welsh
ponies, and gallop off towards their homes.

" I have no home to go to," said he.

"Yes, you have," cried Edwards; "and our
horses are at the door to carry us there."

" To Ireland ? me ! the horses ! " said the poor
boy, quite bewildered : " and will they bring me to
Ireland?"

" No ; the horses cannot carry you to Ireland,"

M 1

162 . ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

said Edwards, laughing good-naturedly, "but you
have a home now in England. I asked my father to
let me take you home with me ; and he says ' Yes,'
like a dear good father, and has sent the horses.
Come, let's away."

" But will Mr. Jones let me go ? "

" Yes ; he dare not refuse ; for my father has a
living in his gift that Jones wants, and which he
will not have, if he do not change his tune to you."

Little Dominick could not speak one word, his
heart was so full. No boy could be happier than he
was during these holydays : " the genial current of
his soul," which had been frozen by unkindness,
flowed with all its natural freedom and force.

When Dominick returned to school after these
holydays were over, Mr. Owen ap Jones, who now
found that the Irish boy had an English protector
with a living in his gift, changed his tone. He
never more complained unjustly that Dominick broke
Priscian's head, seldom called him Irish plockit, and
once would have flogged a Welsh boy for taking up
this cast-off expression of the master's, but the Irish
blockhead begged the culprit off.

Little Dominick sprang forward rapidly in his
studies : he soon surpassed every boy in the school,
his friend Edwards only excepted. In process of
time his guardian removed him to a higher seminary
of education. Edwards had a tutor at home. The
friends separated. Afterwards they followed different
professions in distant parts of the world ; and they
neither saw nor heard any more of each other for

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 163

many years. From boys they grew into men, and
Dominick, now no longer little Dominick, went. over
to India as private secretary to one of our com-
manders in chief. How he got into this situation,
or by what gradations he rose in the world, we are
not exactly informed : we know only that he was the
reputed author of a much-admired pamphlet on
Indian affairs, that the despatches of the general to
whom he was secretary were remarkably well written,
and that Dominick O'Reilly, esq. returned to Eng-
land, after several years' absence, not miraculously
rich, but with a fortune equal to his wishes. His
wishes were not extravagant : his utmost ambition
was to return to his native country with a fortune
that should enable him to live independently of all
the world, especially of some of his relations, who
had not used him well. His mother was no more.

Upon his arrival in London, one of the first things
he did was to read the Irish newspapers. — To his
inexpressible joy, he saw the estate of Fort-Reilly
advertised to be sold — the very estate which had
formerly belonged to his own family. Away he
posted directly to an attorney's who was empowered
to dispose of the land.

When this attorney produced a map of the well-
known pleasure-ground, and an elevation of that
house in which he had spent the happiest hours of
his infancy, his heart was so touched, that he was on
the point of paying down more for an old ruin than
a good new house would cost. The attorney acted
honestly by his client, and seized this moment to
M 2

164 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

exhibit a plan of the stabling and offices, which, as
sometimes is the case in Ireland, were in a style far
superior to the dwelling-house. Our hero surveyed
these with transport. He rapidly planned various
improvements in imagination, and planted certain
favourite spots in the pleasure-ground. During this
time the attorney \vas giving directions to a clerk
about some other business : suddenly the name of
Owen ap Jones struck his ear — He started.

" Let him wait in the front parlour ; his money is
not forthcoming," said the attorney ; " and if he
keep Edwards in gaol till he rots "

" Edwards ! Good heavens ! — in gaol ! What
Edwards ? " exclaimed our hero.

It was his friend Edwards.

The attorney told him that Mr. Edwards had been
involved in great distress by taking upon himself his
father's debts, which had been incurred in exploring
a mine in Wales ; that of all the creditors none had
refused to compound, except a Welsh parson, who
had been presented to his living by old Edwards ;
and that this Mr. Owen ap Jones had thrown young
Mr. Edwards into gaol for the debt.

" What is the rascal's demand ? He shall be paid
off this instant," cried Dominick, throwing down the
plan of Fort-Reilly : " send for him up, and let me
pay him off upon the spot."

" Had not we best finish our business first, about
the O'Reilly estate, sir ? " said the attorney.

" No, sir ; damn the O'Reilly estate," cried he,
huddling the maps together on the desk, and taking

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 165

up the bank notes, which he had begun to reckon for
the purchase money. " I beg your pardon, sir. If
you knew the facts, you would excuse me. Why
does not this rascal come up to be paid ? "

The attorney, thunderstruck by this Hibernian
impetuosity, had not yet found time to take his pen
out of his month. As he sat transfixed in his arm-
chair, O'Reilly ran to the head of the stairs, and
called out in a stentorian voice, " Here, you Mr.
Owen ap Jones ; come up and be paid off this in-
stant, or you shall never be paid at all."

Up stairs hobbled the old schoolmaster, as fast as
the gout and Welsh ale would let him. " Cot pless
me, that voice," he began —

" Where's your bond, sir ?" said the attorney.

" Safe here, Cot be praised," said the terrified
Owen ap Jones, pulling out of his bosom, first a blue
pocket-handkerchief, and then a tattered Welsh
grammar, which O'Reilly kicked to the farther end
of the room-

" Here is my bond," said he, "in the crammer,"
which he gathered from the ground ; then fumbling
over the leaves, he at length unfolded the precious
deposit.

O'Reilly saw the bond, seized it, looked at the
sum, paid it into the attorney's hands, tore the seal
from the bond ; then, without looking at old Jones,
whom he dared not trust himself to speak to, he
clapped his hat upon his head, and rushed out of the
room. Arrived at the King's Bench prison, he hur-
ried to the apartment where Edwards was confined.

166 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

The bolts flew back ; for even the turnkeys seemed
to catch our hero's enthusiasm.

" Edwards, my dear boy ! how do you do ?
Here's a bond debt, justly due to you for my educa-
tion. O, never mind asking any unnecessary ques-
tions ; only just make haste out of this undeserved
abode : our old rascal is paid off — Owen ap Jones,
you know. — Well, how the man stares ! Why, now,
will you have the assurance to pretend to forget who
I am ? and must I spake," continued he, assuming
the tone of his childhood, " and must I spake to you
again in my ould Irish brogue before you will ricol-
lict you own little Dominick ? "

When his friend Edwards was out of prison, and
when our hero had leisure to look into business, he
returned to the attorney, to see that Mr. Owen ap
Jones had been legally satisfied.

" Sir," said the attorney, " I have paid the plain-
tiffin this suit ; and he is satisfied : but I must say,"
added he, with a contemptuous smile, " that you
Irish gentlemen are rather in too great a hurry in
doing business : business, sir, is a thing that must
be done slowly to be done well."

" I am ready now to do business as slowly as you
please ; but when my friend was in prison, I thought
the quicker I did his business the better. Now tell
me what mistake I have made, and I will rectify it
instantly."

" Instantly ! Tis well, sir, with your prompti-
tude, that you have to deal with what prejudice
thinks uncommon — an honest attorney. Here are

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 167

some bank notes of yours, sir, amounting to a good
round sum. You made a little blunder in this busi-
ness : you left me the penalty, instead of the prin-
cipal, of the bond — just twice as much as you should
have done."

" Just twice as much as Mras in the bond, but not
twice as much as I should have done, nor half as
much as I should have done, in my opinion," said
O'Reilly ; " but whatever I did was with my eyes
open : I was persuaded you were an honest man ; in
which you see I was not mistaken ; and as a man of
business, I knew you would pay Jones only his due.
The remainder of the money I meant, and mean,
should lie in your hands for my friend Edwards's use.
I feared he would not have taken it from my hands :
I therefore left it in yours. To have taken my friend
out of prison merely to let him go back again to-day,
for want of money to keep himself clear with the
world, would have been a blunder indeed, but not an
Irish blunder : our Irish blunders are never blunders
of the heart."

CHAPTER V.

THE BLISS OF IGNORANCE.

No well-informed Englishman would laugh at the
blunders of such a character as little Dominick ; but
there are people who justify the assertion, that laugh-

168 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

ter always arises from a sense of real or imaginary
superiority. Now if it be true, that laughter has
its source in vanity, as the most ignorant are gene-
rally the most vain, they must enjoy this pleasure
in its highest perfection. Unconscious of their own
deficiencies, and consequently fearless of becoming
in their turn the objects of ridicule, they enjoy in
full security the delight of humbling their superiors.
How much are they to be admired for the courage
with which they apply, on all occasions., their test of
truth ! Wise men may be struck with admiration,
respect, doubt, or humility ; but the ignorant, hap-
pily unconscious that they know nothing, can be
checked in their merriment by no consideration,
human or divine. Theirs is the sly sneer, the dry
joke, and the horse laugh : theirs the comprehensive
range of ridicule, which takes " every creature in,
of every kind." No fastidious delicacy spoils their
sports of fancy : though ten times told, the tale to
them never can be tedious ; though dull " as the fat
weed that grows on Lethe's bank," the jest for them
has all the poignancy of satire : on the very offals,
the garbage of wit, they can feed and batten. Happy
they who can find in every jester the wit of Sterne
or Swift; who else can wade through hundreds of
thickly printed pages to obtain for their reward such
witticisms as the following : —

" Two Irishmen having travelled on foot from
Chester to Barnet, were confoundedly tired and
fatigued by their journey ; and the more so when they
were told that they had still about ten miles to go.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 169

' By my shoul and St. Patrick/ cries one of them,
* it is but five miles a-piece.' "

Here, notwithstanding the promise of a jest held
forth by the words, " By my shoul and St. Patrick,"
we are ultimately cheated of our hopes. To the
ignorant, indeed, the word of promise is kept to the
mind as well as to the ear ; but others perceive that,
instead of a bull, they have only a piece of senti-
mental arithmetic, founded upon the elegant theorem,
that friendship doubles all our pleasures, and divides
all our pains.

We must not, from false delicacy to our country-
men, here omit a piece of advice to English retailers
or inventors of Irish blunders. Let them beware of
such prefatory exclamations as — " By my shoul and
St. Patrick ! By Jasus ! Arrah, honey ! My dear
joy ! " &c., because all such phrases, beside being
absolutely out of date and fashion in Ireland, raise
too high an expectation in the minds of a British
audience, operating as much to the disadvantage of
the story-teller as the dangerous exordium of — " I'll
tell you an excellent story;" an exordium ever to be
avoided by all prudent wits.

Another caution should be given to well-meaning
ignorance. Never produce that as an Irish bull for
which any person of common literature can imme-
diately supply a precedent from our best authors.
Never be at the pains, for instance, of telling, from
Joe Miller, a good story of an Irish sailor, who
travelled with Captain Cook round the world, and

170 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

afterwards swore to his companions that it was as
flat as a table.

This anecdote, however excellent, immediately
finds a parallel in Pope :

" Mad Mathesis alone was unconfined,
Too mad for mere material chains to bind ;
Now to pure space lifts her ecstatic stare,
Now running round the circle finds it square."

Pope was led into the blunder of representing mad
Mathesis running round the circle, and finding it
square by a confused notion that mathematicians
had considered the circle as composed of straight
lines. His mathematical friends could have told him,
that though it was talked of as a polygon, it was not
supposed to be a square ; but polygon would not have
rhymed to stare ; and poets, when they launch into
the ocean of words, must have an eye to the helm ;
at all events a poet, who is not supposed to be a
student of the exact sciences, may be forgiven for a
mathematical blunder. This affair of squaring the
circle seems to be peculiarly liable to error; for even
an accurate mathematician cannot speak of it without
committing something very like a bull.

Dr. Hutton, in his Treatise on Mensuration,
p. 119, says, " As the famous quadrature of the late
Mr. John Machin, professor of astronomy in Gresham
College, is extremely expeditious and but little known,
I shall take this opportunity of explaining it."

It is to be presumed, that the doctor here uses the

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 171

word famous in that acceptation in which it is daily
and hourly employed by our Bond-street loungers,
by city apprentices, and men of the ton. ft That was
a famous good joke ; " " He is a famous whip ; "
" We had a famous hop," &c. Now it cannot be
supposed that any of these things are in themselves
entitled to fame ; but they may, indeed, by the cour-
tesy of England, be at once famous, and but little
known. It is unnecessary to enter into the defence
either of Dr. Hutton or of Pope, for they were not
born in Ireland, therefore they cannot make bulls ;
and assuredly theif mistakes will not, in the opinion
of any person of common sense or candour, derogate
from their reputation.

" Never strike till you are sure to wound," is a
maxim well known to the polite * and politic part of
the world. " Never laugh when the laugh can be
turned against you," should be the maxim of those
who find their chief pleasure in making others ridi-
culous. This principle, if applied to our subject,
would lead, however, to a very extensive and trouble-
some system of mutual forbearance ; troublesome in
proportion to the good or ill humour of the parties
concerned, extensive in proportion to their knowledge
and acquirements. A man of cultivated parts will
foresee the possibility of the retort courteous, where
an ignorant man will enjoy the fearless bliss of igno-
rance. For example, an illiterate person may enjoy
a hearty laugh at the common story of an old Irish

* Lord Chesterfield.

172 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

beggar-man, who, pretending to be dumb, was
thrown off his guard by the question, " How many
years have you been dumb ? " and answered, " Five
years last St. John's Eve, please your honour."

But our triumph over the Irishman abates, when
we recollect in the History of England, and in Shak-
speare, the case of Saunder Simcox, who pretended
to be miraculously and instantaneously cured of
blindness at St. Alban's shrine.

Since we have bestowed so much criticism on the
blunder of a beggar-man, a word or two must be
permitted on the blunder of a thief. It is natural
for ignorant people to laugh at the Hibernian who
said that he had stolen a pound of chocolate to make
tea of. But philosophers are disposed to abstain
from the laugh of superiority when they recollect
that the Irishman could probably make as good tea
from chocolate as the chemist could make butter,
sugar, and cream, from antimony, sulphur, and tartar.
The absurdities in the ancient chemical nomenclature
could not be surpassed by any in the Hibernian
catalogue. If the reader should think this a rash and
unwarrantable assertion, we refer him to an essay,*
in which the flagrant abuses of speech in the old
language of chemistry are admirably exposed and
ridiculed. Could an Irishman confer a more appro-
priate appellation upon a white powder than that of
beautiful black ?

* Essay on Chemical Nomenclature, by S. Dickson, M.D. ;
in which are comprised observations on the same subject, by R.
Kirwan, Pres. R.I. A — Vide pages 21, 22, 23, &c.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 173

It is really provoking to perceive, that as our know-
ledge of science or literature extends, \ve are in more
danger of finding, in our own and foreign languages,
parallels and precedents for Irish blunders ; so that
a very well informed man can scarcely with any grace
or conscience smile, where a booby squire might enjoy
a long and loud horse-laugh of contempt.

What crowds were collected to see the Irish bottle
conjuror * get into a quart bottle ; but Dr. Desaguliers
had prepared the English to think such a conden-
sation of animal particles not impossible. He savs,
vol. i. p. 5, of his Lectures on Natural Philosophy,
" that the nature of things should last, and their
natural course continue the same ; all the changes
made in bodies must arise only from the various
separations, new conjunctions, and motions, of these
original particles. These must be imagined of an
unconceivable smallness, but by the union of them
there are made bigger lumps," &c.

Indeed things are now come to such a lamentable
pass, that without either literary or scientific acquire-
ments, mere local knowledge, such as can be obtained
from a finger-post, may sometimes prevent us from
the full enjoyment of the Boeotian absurdity of our
neighbours. What can, at first view, appear a grosser
blunder, than that of the Irishman who begged a
friend to look over his library, to find for him the

* This conjuror, whose name was Broadstreet, was a native
of the county of Longford, in Ireland : he by this hit pocketed
200/., and proved himself to be more knave than fooL

174 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

history of the world before the creation ? Yet this
anachronism of ideas is not unparalleled ; it is
matched, though on a more contracted scale, by an
inscription on a British finger-post —

" Had you seen these roads before they were made,
You'd lift up your eyes, and bless Marshal Wade ! "

There is, however, a rabbi, mentioned by Bayle,
who far exceeds both the Irishman and the finger-
post. He asserts, that Providence questioned Adam
concerning the creation before he was born ; and that
Adam knew more of the matter than the angels who
had laughed at him.

Those who see things in a philosophical light
must have observed more frequently than others,
that there is in this world a continual recurrence or
rotation of ideas, events, and blunders. With his
utmost ingenuity, or his utmost absurdity, a man, in
modern days, cannot contrive to produce a system for
which there is no prototype in antiquity, or to com-
mit a blunder for which there is no precedent. For
example : during the late rebellion in Ireland, at the
military execution of some wretched rebel, the cord
broke, and the criminal, M'ho had been only half
hanged, fell to the ground. The Major, who was
superintending the execution, exclaimed, " You
rascal, if you do that again, I'll kill you, as sure as
you breathe."

Now this is by no means an original idea. In
an old French book, called " La Charlatanerie des
Savans," is the following note : — " D'autres ont pro-

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 175

pose et resolu en meme terns des questions ridicules;
par exemple celle-ci : Devroit-on faire souffrir une
seconde fois le meme genre de mort a un criminel,
qui apres avoir eu la tete coupee viendroit a re-
susciter ? " — Finkellh, Praef. ad Observationes Pract.
num. 12.

The passionate major, instead of being a mere
Irish blunderer, was, without knowing it, a learned
casuist; for he was capable of deciding, in one \rord,
a question, which, it seems, had puzzled the under-
standings of the ablest lawyers of France, or which
had appalled their conscientious sensibility.

Alas, there is nothing new under the sun !

" Where ignorance is bliss, 'Us folly to be wise."

CHAPTER VI.

" THOUGHTS THAT BREATHE, AND WORDS THAT
BURN."

WE lamented, in our last chapter, that there is
nothing new under the sun ; yet, perhaps, the
thoughts and phraseology of the following story may
not be familiar to the English.

" Plase your honour," says a man, whose head is
bound up with a garter, in token and commemoration
of his having been at a fair the preceding night —
" Plase your honour, it's what I am striving since six
o'clock and before, this morning, becaase I'd sooner

176 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

trouble your honour's honour than any man in all
Ireland, on account of your character, and having
lived under yoxir family, me and mine, twinty years,
aye, say forty again to the back o'that, in the old
gentleman's time, as I well remember before I was
born ; that same time I heard tell of your own honour's
riding a little horse in green with your gun before
you, a grousing over our town-lands, which was the
mill and abbey of Ballynagobogg, though 'tis now set
away from me (owing to them that belied my father)
to Christy Salmon, becaase he's an Orangeman — or
his wife — though he was once (let him deny it who
can), to my certain knowledge, behind the haystack
in Tullygore, sworn in a United man by captain

Alick, who was hanged Pace to the dead any

how ! Well, not to be talking too much of that

now, only for this Christy Salmon, I should be still
living under your honour."

" Very likely ; but what has all this to do with the
present business ? If you have any complaint to make
against Christy Salmon, make it — if not, let me go
to dinner."

" Oh, it would be too bad to be keeping your
honour from your dinner, but I'll make your honour
sinsible immadiately. It is not of Christy Salmon
at-all-at-all I'm talking. May be your honour is not
sinsible yet who I am — I am Paddy M'Doole, of the
Curragh, and I've been a flax-dresser and dealer since
I parted your honour's land, and was last night at
the fair of Clonaghkilty, where I wrent just in a quiet
way thinking of nothing at all, as any man might,

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 177

and had my little yarn along with me, my wife's and
the girl's year's spinning, and all just hoping to bring
them back a few honest shillings as they desarved —
none better ! — Well, plase your honour, my beast
lost a shoe, which brought me late to the fair, but
not so late but what it was as throng as ever ; you
could have walked over the heads of the men, women,
and childer, a foot and a horseback, all buying and
selling; so I to be sure thought no harm of doing the
like ; so I makes the best bargain I could of the little
hanks for my wife and the girl, and the man I sold
them to was just weighing them at the crane, and I
standing forenent him — ' Success to myself!' said I,
looking at the shillings I was putting into my waist-
coat pocket for my poor family, when up comes the
inspector, whom I did not know, I'll take my oath,
from Adam, nor couldn't know, becaase he was the
deputy inspector, and had been but just made, of
which I was ignorant, by this book and all the books
that ever were shut and opened — but no matter for
that ; he seizes my hanks out of the scales that I had
just sold, saying they were unlawful and forfeit,
becaase by his watch it was past four o'clock, which
I denied to be possible, plase your honour, becaase
not one, nor two, nor three, but all the town and
country were selling the same as myself in broad
day, only when the deputy came up they stopped,
which I could not, by rason I did not know him. —
' Sir,' says I (very civil), ' if I had known you, it
would have been another case, but any how I hope
no jantleman will be making it a crime to a poor man
N i

178 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

to sell his little matter of yarn for his wife and
childer after four o'clock, when he did not know it
was contrary to law at-all-at-all.'

" ' I gave you notice that it was contrary to law at
the fair of Edgerstown,' said he. — ' I axe your par-
don, sir,' said I, e it was my brother, for I was by.' —
With that he calls me liar, and what not, and takes
a grip* of me, and I a grip of my flax, and he had a
shilalat and I had none; so he gave it me over the
head, I crying ' murder ! murder ! ' and clinging to
the scales to save me, and they set a swinging and I
with them, plase your honour, till the bame comes
down a'top o'the back o'my head, and kilt me, as your
honour sees."

" I see that you are alive still, I think."

" It's not his fault if I am, plase your honour, for
he left me for dead, and I am as good as dead still :
if it be plasing to your honour to examine my head,
you'll be sinsible I'm telling nothing but the truth.
Your honour never seen a man kilt as I was and am
— all which I'm ready (when convanient) to swear
before your honour." J

The reiterated assurances which this hero gives us
of his being killed, and the composure with which he
offers to swear to his own assassination and decease,
appear rather surprising and ludicrous to those who

* A gripe or fast hold.

+ An oak stick, supposed to be cut from the famous wood of
Shilala.

£ This is nearly verbatim from a late Irish complainant.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 179

are not aware that kill is here used in a metaphorical
sense, and that it has not the full force of our word
killed. But we have been informed by a lady of
unquestionable veracity, that she very lately received
a petition worded in this manner —

" To the right hon. lady E P .

" Humbly showeth ;

" That your poor petitioner is now lying dead in
a ditch," &c.

This poor Irish petitioner's expression, however
preposterous it sounds, might perhaps be justified,
if we were inclined to justify an Irishman by the
example, not only of poets comic and tragic, but of
prose writers of various nations. The evidence in
favour both of the fact and the belief, that people can
speak and walk after they are dead, is attested by
stout warriors and grave historians. Let us listen to
the solemn voice of a princess, who comes sweeping
in the sceptred pall of gorgeous tragedy, to inform
us that half herself has buried the other half.

" Weep eyes ; melt into tears these cheeks to lave :
One half myself lays t'other in the grave." *

For six such lines as these Corneille received six
thousand livres, and the admiration of the French
court and people during the Augustan age of French
literature. But an Italian is not content with killing

* " Pleurez, pleurez mes yeux et fondez vous en eau,

La moitie de ma vie a mis 1'autre au tombeau."

N2

180 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

by halves. Here is a man from Italy who goes on
fighting, not like Witherington, upon his stumps,
but fairly after he is dead.

" Nor yet perceived the vital spirit fled,

But still fought on, nor knew that he was dead." *

Common sense is somewhat shocked at this single
instance of an individual fighting after he is dead ;
but we shall, doubtless, be reconciled to the idea by
the example of a gallant and modern commander,
who has declared his opinion, that nothing is more
feasible than for a garrison to fight, or at least to
surrender, after they are dead, nay, after they are
buried. — Witness this public document.

" Liberty and Equality.
, 6. } Garrison of Ostend.

" Muscar, commandant of Ostend, to the com-
mandant in chief of his British majesty.
" General,

" The council of war was sitting when I received
the honour of your letters. We have unanimously
resolved not to surrender the place until we shall
have been buried in its ruins," &c.

One step further in hyperbole is reserved for him,
who, being buried, carries about his own sepulchre.

" H pover uomo che non sen' era accorto,
Andava combattendo ed era niorto."

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 181

" To live a life half dead, a living death,
And buried ; but oh, yet more miserable !
Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave !"

No person, if he heard this passage for the first
time from the lips of an Irishman, could hesitate to
call it a series of bulls ; yet these lines are part of
the beautiful complaint of Samson Agonistes on his
blindness. Such are the hyperboles sanctioned by
the genius, or, what with some judges may have
more influence, the name of Milton. The bounds
which separate sublimity from bombast, and absur-
dity from wit, are as fugitive as the boundaries of
taste. Only those who are accustomed to examine
and appraise literary goods are sensible of the pro-
digious change that can be made in their apparent
value by a slight change in the manufacture. The
absurdity of a man's swearing he was killed, or de-
claring that he is now dead in a ditch, is revolting
to common sense ; yet the living death of Dapperwit,
in the " Rape of the Lock," is not absurd, but witty ;
and representing men as dying many times before
their death is in Shakspeare sublime :

*' Cowards die many times before their death ;
The brave can never taste of death but once."

The most direct contradictions in words do not
(in English writers) destroy the effect of irony, wit,
pathos, or sublimity.

In the classic ode on Eton College, the poet ex-
claims—

182 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

" To each their sufferings, all are men

Condemned alike to groan ;
The feeling for another's pain,

Th' unfeeling for their own."

Who but a half-witted dunce would ask how those
that are unfeeling can have sufferings ? When Milton
in melodious verse inquires

" Who shall tempt with wandering feet
The dark unbuttom'd infinite abyss,
And through the palpable obscure find out
His uncouth way ! "

what Zoilus shall dare interrupt this flow of poetry
to object to the palpable obscure, or to ask how feet
can wander upon that which has no bottom ?

It is easy, as Tully has long ago observed, to fix
the brand of ridicule upon the verbum ardens of
orators and poets — the " Thoughts that breathe, and
words that burn."

CHAPTER VII.

PRACTICAL BULLS.

As we have not hitherto been successful in finding
original Irish bulls in language, we must now look
for them in conduct. A person may be guilty of a
solecism without uttering a single syllable — " That
man has been guilty of a solecism with his hand," an
ancient critic said of an actor, who had pointed his

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 183

hand upwards when invoking the infernal gods
" You may act a lie as well as speak one/' says
Wollaston. Upon the same principle, the Irish may
be said to act, as well as to utter bulls. We shall
give some instances of their practical bulls, which
we hope to find unmatched by the blunders of all
other nations. Most people, whether they be savage
or civilized, can contrive to revenge themselves upon
their enemies without blundering ; but the Irish are
exceptions. They cannot even do this without a
butt. During the late Irish rebellion, there was a
banker to whom they had a peculiar dislike, and on
whom they had vowed vengeance : accordingly they
got possession of as many of his bank-notes as they
could, and made a bonfire of them ! This might
have been called a feu de joie, perhaps, but certainly
not un feu d'artifice ; for nothing could show less
art than burning a banker's notes in order to destroy
his credit. How much better do the English un-
derstand the arts of vengeance ! Captain Drink-
water * informs us, that during the siege of Gibraltar,
the English, being half famished, were most violently
enraged against the Jews, who withheld their stores
of provision, and made money of the public distress
—a crime never committed except by Jews : at length
the fleet relieved the besieged, and as soon as the
fresh provisions were given out, the English soldiers
and sailors, to revenge themselves upon the Jews,
burst open their stores, and actually roasted a pig at

• See his account of the siege of Gibraltar.

184 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

a fire made of cinnamon. There are other persons,
as well as the Irish, who do not always understand
their own interests where their passions are con-
cerned. That great warrior, Hyder Ali, once lost a
battle by a practical bull. Being encamped within
sight of the British, he resolved to give them a high
idea of his forces and of his artillery ; for this pur-
pose, before the engagement,* he ordered his army
to march early, and conveying some large pieces of
cannon to the top of a hill, he caused them to be
pointed at the English camp, which they reached
admirably well, and occasioned a kind of disorder
and haste in striking and removing tents, &c. Hyder,
delighted at having thus insulted the English, caused
all his artillery, even the very smallest pieces, to be
drawn up the hill for the purpose of making a vain
parade, though the greater part of the balls could
never reach the English : he imagined he should
give the enemy a high idea of his forces, and inti-
midate them by showing all his artillery, and the
vivacity with which it was worked; and in order
that his intention might be answered, he encouraged
the soldiers himself by giving money to the can-
noneers of those pieces that appeared to be the best
served.

The English presently, after this farce was over,
obliged Hyder to come down from labour-in-vain
hill, and to give them battle in earnest. As the
historian observes, " The ridiculous cannonade at the

" Life of Hyder Ali Khan, vol. ii. p. 231.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 185

top of the hill had exhausted his ammunition, his
great guns were useless to him, and he lost the day
by his premature rejoicings before the battle." A
still more ancient precedent for this preposterous
practical bull, of rejoicing for an anticipated victory,
was given by Xerxes, we believe, who brought with
him an immense block of marble, on which he in-
tended to inscribe the date and manner of his
victory over the Greeks. When Xerxes was de-
feated, the Greeks dedicated this stone to Nemesis,
the goddess of vengeance. But Xerxes was in the
habit of making practical bulls, such as whipping
the sea, and begging pardon for it afterwards ;
throwing fetters into the Hellespont as a token of
subjugation, and afterwards expiating his offence by
an offering of a golden cup and Persian scimetar.

To such blunders can the passions betray the most
renowned heroes, although they had not the mis-
fortune to have been born in Ireland.

The impatience which induced Hyder AH to an-
ticipate victory is not confined to military men and
warlike operations; if we descend to common life
and vulgar business, we shall find the same disposi-
tion even in the precincts of Change-alley: those
who bargained for South Sea stock, that was not
actually forthcoming, were called bears, in allusion
to the practice of the hunters of bears in Canada,
who were accustomed to bargain for the skin of the
bear before it was caught ; but whence the correla-
tive term bull is derived we are at a loss to deter-
mine, and we must also leave it to the mercantile

186 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

speculators of England to explain why gentlemen
call themselves bulls of wheat and bulls of coals:
all we can say is, that these are not Irish bulls.
There is one distinguished peculiarity of the Irish
bull — its horns are tipped with brass* It is gene-
rally supposed that persons who have been dipped in
the Shannon t are ever afterwards endowed with a
supernatural portion of what is called by enemies
impudence or assurance, by friends, self-possession
or civil courage. These invulnerable mortals are
never oppressed with mauvaise honte, that malady
which keeps the faculties of the soul under ima-
ginary imprisonment. A well-dipped Irishman, on
the contrary, can move, speak, think, like Demos-
thenes, with as much ease, when the eyes of
numbers are upon him, as if the spectators were so
many cabbage-stalks. This virtue of civil courage
is of inestimable value in the opinion of the best
judges. The great lord Verulam — no one, by-the-
bye, could be a better judge of its value than he,
who wanted it so much — the great lord Verulam
declares, that if he were asked what is the first,
second, and third thing necessary to success in
public business, he should answer boldness, boldness,
boldness. Success to the nation which possesses it
in perfection ! Bacon was too acute and candid a
philosopher not to acknowledge, that like all the

• See the advice of Cleomeues to Crius. HERODOTUS
ERATO.

•f- It is said that the waters of the Garonne are famed for a
similar virtue .

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 187

other goods of life this same boldness has its counter-
vailing disadvantages.

"Certainly/' says he, "to men of great judg-
ment, bold persons are a sport to behold ; nay, and to
the vulgar, boldness hath somewhat of the ridiculous;
for if absurdity be the subject of laughter, doubt
you not but great boldness is seldom without some
absurdity ; especially it is a sport to see when a bold
fellow is out of countenance, for that puts his face
into a most shrunken and wooden posture, as needs
it must."

The man, however, who possesses boldness in per-
fection, can never be put out of countenance, -and
consequently can never exhibit, for the sport of his
enemies, a face in this wooden posture. It is the
deficiency, and not the excess of this quality, that
is to be feared. Civil boldness without military
courage would, indeed, be somewhat ridiculous : but
we cannot accuse the Irish of any want of military
courage ; on the contrary, it is supposed in England,
that an Irishman is always ready to give any gentle-
man satisfaction, even when none is desired.

At the close of the American war, as a noble lord
of high naval character was returning home to his
family after various escapes from danger, he was
detained a day at Holyhead by contrary winds.
Reading in a summer-house, he heard the well-
known sound of bullets whistling near him : he looked
about, and found that two balls had just passed
through the door close beside him ; he looked out of
the window, and saw two gentlemen who were just

188 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

charging their pistols again, and, as he guessed that
they had been shooting at a mark upon the door, he
rushed out, and very civilly remonstrated with them
on the imprudence of firing at the door of a house
without having previously examined whether any
one was withinside. One of them immediately
answered, in a tone which proclaimed at once his
disposition and his country, " Sir, I did not know
you were within there, and I don't know who you
are now; but if I've given offence, I am willing,"
said he, holding out the ready-charged pistols, " to
give you the satisfaction of a gentleman — take your
choice."

With his usual presence of mind the noble lord
seized hold of both the pistols, and said to his asto-
nished countryman, " Do me the justice, sir, to go
into that summer-house, shut the door, and let me
have two shots at you ; then we shall be upon equal
terms, and I shall be quite at your service to give or
receive the satisfaction of a gentleman."

There was an,air of drollery and of superiority in
his manner which at once struck and pleased the
Hibernian. " Upon my conscience, sir, I believe
you are a very honest fellow," said he, looking him
earnestly in the face, " and I have a great mind to
shake hands with you. Will you only just tell me
who you are ?"

The nobleman told his name — a name dear to
every Briton and every Irishman.

" I beg your pardon, and that's what no man ever
accused me of doing before," cried the gallant

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 189

Hibernian ; " and had I known who you were, I
would as soon have shot my orvn soul as have fired at
the door. But how could I tell who \vas within-
side ? "

" That is the very thing of which I complain,"
said his lordship.

His candid opponent admitted the justice of the
complaint as soon as he understood it, and he pro-
mised never more to be guilty of such a practical
bull.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE DUBLIN SHOEBLACK.

UPON looking over our last chapter on practical
bulls, we were much concerned to find that we have
so few Irish and so many foreign blunders. It is
with still more regret we perceive that, notwith-
standing our utmost diligence, we have not yet been
able to point out the distinguishing characteristic of
an Irish bull. But to compensate for this disap-
pointment we have devised a syllogism, which some
people may prefer to an a priori argument, to prove
irrefragably, that the Irish are blunderers.

After the instances we have produced, chapter
6th, of the verbum ardens of English and foreign
poets, and after the resemblance that we have pointed
out betwixt certain figures of rhetoric and the Irish

190 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

bull, we have little reason to fear that the candid
and enlightened reader should object to our major.

Major. — Those who use figurative language are
disposed to make bulls.

Minor. — The Irish use figurative language.

Conclusion. — Therefore the Irish are disposed to
make bulls.

We proceed to establish the truth of our minor,
and the first evidence we shall call is a Dublin shoe-
black. He is not in circumstances peculiarly favour-
able for the display of figurative language ; he is in
a court of justice, upon his trial for life or death. A
quarrel happened between two shoeblacks, who were
playing at what in England is called pitch-farthing,
or heads and tails, and in Ireland, head or harp.
One of the combatants threw a small paving stone at
his opponent, who drew out the knife with which he
used to scrape shoes, and plunged it up to the hilt in
his companion's breast. It is necessary for our story
to say, that near the hilt of this knife was stamped
the name of Lamprey, an eminent cutler in Dublin.
The shoeblack was brought to trial. With a number
of significant gestures, which on his audience had
all the powers that Demosthenes ascribes to action,
he, in a language not purely Attic, gave the follow-
ing account of the affair to his judge.

" Why, my lard, as I was going past the Royal
Exchange I meets Billy. ' Billy/ says I, ' will you
sky a copper ? ' ' Done,' says he, ' Done,' says I ;
and done and done's enough between two jantlemen.
With that I ranged them fair and even with my

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 191

hook-em-snivey — up they go. ' Music ! ' says he,
' Skulls ! ' says I ; and down they come three brown
mazards. ' By the holy ! you flesh'd em/ says he.
' You lie/ says I. With that he ups with a lump
of a two year old, and lets drive at me. I outs with
my bread-earner, and gives it him up to Lamprey in
the bread-basket."

To make this intelligible to the English, some
comments are necessary. Let us follow the text,
step by step, and it will afford our readers, as lord
Kames says of Blair's Dissertation on Ossian, a de-
licious morsel of criticism.

As I was going past the Royal Exchange I meets
Billy.

In this apparently simple exordium, the scene and
the meeting with Billy are brought before the eye
by the judicious use of the present tense.

Billy, says I, mill you sky a copper ?

A copper ! genus pro specie ! the generic name of
copper for the base individual halfpenny.

Sky a copper.

To sky is a new verb, which none but a master
hand could have coined : a more splendid metonomy
could not be applied upon a more trivial occasion :
the lofty idea of raising a metal to the skies is sub-
stituted for the mean thought of tossing up a half-
penny. Our orator compresses his hyperbole into a
single word. Thus the mind is prevented from
dwelling long enough upon the figure to perceive its
enormity. This is the perfection of the art. Let
the genius of French exaggeration and of eastern

lUii ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

hyperbole hide their diminished heads — Virgil is
scarcely more sublime.

" Ingrediturque solo et caput inter nubila condit."
" Her feet on earth, her head amidst the clouds."

Up they go, continues our orator.

Music ! says he — Skulls ! says I.

Metaphor continually : on one side of an Irish
halfpenny there .is a harp ; this is expressed by the
general term music, which is finely contrasted with
the word scull.

Down they come, three brown mazards.

Mazards ! how the diction of our orator is enriched
from the vocabulary of Shakspeare ! the word head,
instead of being changed for a more general term, is
here brought distinctly to the eye by the term
mazard, or face, which is more appropriate to his
majesty's profile than the word skull or head.

By the holy ! you flesh' d 'em, says he.

By the holy ! is an oath in which more is meant
than meets the ear; it is an ellipsis — an abridgment
of an oath. The full formula runs thus — By the
holy poker of hell ! This instrument is of Irish in-
vention or imagination. It seems a useful piece of
furniture in the place for which it is intended, to
stir the devouring flames, and thus to increase the
torments of the damned. Great judgment is neces-
sary to direct an orator how to suit his terms to his
auditors, so as not to shock their feelings either by
what is too much above or too much below common
life. In the use of oaths, where the passions are

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 193

warm, this must be particularly attended to, else
they lose their effect, and seem more the result of
the head than the heart. But to proceed —

By the holy ! you flesh' d 'em.

To flesh is another verb of Irish coinage; it
means, in shoeblack dialect, to touch a halfpenny, as
it goes up into the air, with the fleshy part of the
thumb, so as to turn it which way you please, and
thus to cheat your opponent. What an intricate ex-
planation saved by one word ! •

You lie, says I.

Here no periphrasis would do the business.

With that he ups with a lump of a two year old,
and lets drive at me.

He ups with. — A verb is here formed of two pre-
positions— a novelty in grammar. Conjunctions, we
all know, are corrupted Anglo-Saxon verbs; but
prepositions, according to Home Tooke, derive only
from Anglo-Saxon nouns.

All this time it is possible that the mere English
reader may not be able to guess what it is that our
orator ups with or takes up. He should be apprised,
that a lump of a two year old is a middle-sized stone.
This is a metaphor, borrowed partly from the grazier's
vocabulary, and partly from the arithmetician's vade-
mecum. A stone, to come under the denomination
of a lump of a two year old, must be to a less stone
as a two year old calf is to a yearling ; or it must be
to a larger stone than itself, as a two year old calf is
to an ox. Here the scholar sees that there must be
two statements, one in the rule of three direct and

194 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

one in the rule of three inverse, to obtain precisely
the thing required; yet the untutored Irishman,
without suspecting the necessity of this operose pro-
cess, arrives at the solution of the problem by some
short cut of his own, as he clearly evinces by the
propriety of his metaphor. To be sure, there seems
some incongruity in his throwing this lump of a two
year old calf at his adversary. No arm but that of
Milo could be strong enough for such a feat. Upon
recollection, however, bold as this figure may seem,
there are precedents for its use.

" We read in a certain author," says Beattie,
" of a giant, who, in his wrath, tore off the top of
the promontory, and flung it at the enemy; and so
huge was the mass, that you might, says he, have
seen goats browsing on it as it flew through the air."
Compared \vith this, our orator's figure is cold and
tame.

" I outs with my bread-earner," continues he.

We forbear to comment on outs with, because the
intelligent critic immediately perceives that it has
the same sort of merit ascribed to ups with. What
our hero dignifies with the name of his bread-earner
is the knife with which, by scraping shoes, he earned
his bread. Pope's ingenious critic, Mr. Warton,
bestow's judicious praise upon the art with which this
poet, in the Rape of the Lock, has used many
" periphrases and uncommon expressions," to avoid
mentioning the name of scissors, which would sound
too vulgar for epic dignity — fatal engine, forfex,
meeting points, &c. Though the metonymy of

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 195

bread-earner for a shoeblack's knife may not equal
these in elegance, it perhaps surpasses them in in-
genuity.

/ gives it him up to Lamprey in the bread-basket.*
Homer is happy in his description of wounds, but
this surpasses him in the characteristic choice of cir-
cumstance. Up to Lamprey, gives us at once a
complete idea of the length, breadth, and thickness
of the wound, without the assistance of the coroner.
It reminds us of a passage in Virgil —

" Cervice orantis capulo tenus abdidit ensem."
" Up to the hilt his shining falchion sheathed."

Let us now compare the Irish shoeblack's meta-
phorical language with the sober slang of an English
blackguard, who fortunately for the fairness of the
comparison, was placed somewhat in similar circum-
stances.

Lord Mansfield, examining a man who was a wit-
ness in the court of King's Bench, asked him what
he knew of the defendant.

" Oh, my lord, I knew him. I was up to him."
" Up to him !" says his lordship ; " what do you
mean by being up to him ? "

" Mean, my lord ! why, / was down upon him."
" Up to him, and down upon him ! " says his
lordship, turning to counsellor Dunning, " what
does the fellow mean ? "

• The stomach.

o 2

196 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

" Why, I mean, my lord, as deep as he thought
himself, / slugged him."

" I cannot conceive, friend," says his lordship,
" what you mean by this sort of language ; I do not
understand it."

" Not understand it !" rejoined the fellow, with
surprise : " Lord, rvhal aflat you must be ! "

Though he undervalued lord Mansfield, this man
does not seem to have been a very bright genius. In
his cant words, " up to him, down upon him, slagged
him," there are no metaphors ; and we confess our-
selves to be as great flats as his lordship, for we do
not understand this sort of language.

" True, no meaning puzzles more than wit,"

as we may see in another English example. Pro-
verbs have been called the wisdom of nations ; there-
fore it is fair to have recourse to them in estimating
national abilities. Now there is an old English pro-
verb, " Tenterten steeple is the cause of Goodwin
sands."

" This proverb," says Mr. Ray, " is used when an
absurd and ridiculous reason is given of any thing
in question; an account of the original whereof I find
in one of bishop Latimer's sermons in these words —
' Mr. Moore was once sent with commission into
Kent to try out, if it might be, what was the cause
of Goodwin's sands, and the shelf which stopped up
Sandwich haven. Thither cometh Mr. Moore, and
calleth all the country before him, such as were
thought to be men of experience, and men that could,

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 197

of all likelihood, best satisfy him of the matter con-
cerning the stopping of Sandwich haven. Among
the rest came in before him an old man with a white
head, and one that was thought to be little less than
a hundred years old. When Mr. Moore saw this
aged man, he thought it expedient to hear him say
his mind in this matter (for being so old a man, it
was likely that he knew the most in that presence
or company) ; so Mr. Moore called this old aged man
unto him and said, ' Father,' said he, ' tell me,
if you can, what is the cause of the great arising of
the sands and shelves here about this haven, which
stop it up so that no ships can arrive here. You are
the oldest man I can espy in all the company, so that
if any man can tell any cause of it, you, of all like-
lihood, can say most to it, or, at leastwise, more than
any man here assembled.'

" ' Yea, forsooth, good Mr. Moore,' quoth this old
man, ' for I am well nigh a hundred years old, and
no man here in this company any thing near my age.'

" ' Well, then,' quoth Mr. Moore, ' how say you
to this matter ? What think you to be the cause of
these shelves and sands which stop up Sandwich
haven ? '

" ' Forsooth, sir,' quoth he, ' I am an old man ; I
think that Tenterten steeple is the cause of Goodwin's
sands. For I am an old man, sir,' quoth he, ' I may
remember the building of Tenterten steeple, and I
may remember when there was no steeple at all there ;
and before that Tenterten or Totterden steeple was
in building, there was no manner of talking of any

198 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

flats or stands that stopped up the haven, and there-
fore I think that Tenterten steeple is the cause of
the decay and destroying of Sandwich haven.' "* —
Thus far the bishop.

The prolix pertinacity with which this old aged
man adheres to the opinion that he had formed,
without any intelligible reason, is characteristic of
an English peasant ; but however absurd his mode of
judging may be, and however confused and incon-
gruous his ideas, his species of absurdity surely bears
no resemblance to an Hibernian blunder. We cannot
even suspect it to be possible that a man of this slow,
circumspect character could be in any danger of
making an Irish bull ; and we congratulate the
English peasantry and populace, as a body, upon
their possessing that temper which

" Wisely rests content with sober sense,
Nor makes to dangerous wit a vain pretence."

Even the slang of English pickpockets and coiners
is, as we may see in Colquhoun's View of the Metro-
polis, free from all seducing mixture of wit and
humour. What Englishman would ever have thought
of calling persons in the pillory the babes in the wood ?
This is a common cant phrase amongst Dublin repro-

* This ancient old man, we fear, was more knave than fool.
History informs us, that the bishop of Rochester had directed the
revenue, appropriated for keeping Goodwin harbour in repair, to
the purpose of building a steeple. — Vide Fuller's Worthies of
England, page 65.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 199

bates. Undoubtedly such phrases tend to lessen the
power of shame and the effect of punishment, and a
witty rogue will lead numbers to the gallows. English
morality is not in so much danger as Irish manners
must be from these humorous talents in their knights
of industry. If, nevertheless, there be frequent exe-
cutions for capital crimes in England, we must ac-
count for this in the words of the old lord chief justice
Fortescue — " More men," says his lordship, " are
hanged in Englonde in one year than in Fraunce in
seven, because the English have better hartes ; the
Scotchmenne likewise never dare rob, but only commit
larcenies." At all events, the phlegmatic temper of
Englonde secures her from making bulls. The pro-
pensity to this species of blunder exists in minds of
a totally different cast ; in those who are quick and
enthusiastic, who are confounded by the rapidity and
force with which undisciplined multitudes of ideas
crowd for utterance. Persons of such intellectual
characters are apt to make elisions in speaking, which
they trust the capacities of their audience will supply :
passing rapidly over a long chain of thought, they
sometimes forget the intermediate links, and no one
but those of equally rapid habits can follow them
successfully.

We hope that the evidence of the Dublin shoe-
black has, in some degree, tended to prove our minor,
that the Irish are disposed to use figurative lan-
guage : we shall not, however, rest our cause on a
single evidence, however respectable ; but before we
summon our other witnesses, we beg to relieve the

200 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

reader's attention, which must have been fatigued
by such a chapter of criticism. They shall now
have the tale of a mendicant. A specimen of city
rhetoric is given in the shoeblack ; the country men-
dicant's eloquence is of a totally different species.

CHAPTER IX.

THE HIBERNIAN MENDICANT.

PERHAPS the reader may wish to see as M ell as hear
the petitioner. At first view you might have taken
him for a Spaniard. He was tall ; and if he had
been a gentleman, you would have said that there
was an air of dignity in his figure. He seemed
very old, yet he appeared more worn by sorrow than
by time. Leaning upon a thick oaken stick as he
took off his hat to ask for alms, his white hair was
blown by the wind.

" Health and long life to you ! " said he. " Give
an old man something to help to bury him. He is
past his labour, and cannot trouble this world long
any way."

He held his hat towards us, with nothing impor-
tunate in his manner, but rather with a look of
confidence in us, mixed with habitual resignation.
His thanks were : " Heaven bless you ! — Long life

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 201

and success to you ! to you and yours ! and may you
never want a friend, as I do."

The last words were spoken low. He laid his
hand upon his heart as he bowed to us, and Mralked
slowly away. We called him back; and upon our
questioning him farther, he gave the following ac-
co\mt of himself: —

" I was bred and born — but no matter where such
a one as I Avas bred and born, no more than where I
may die and be buried. /, that have neither son,
nor daughter, nor kin, nor friend, on the wide earth,
to mourn over my grave when I am laid in it, as I
soon must. Well ! when it pleases God to take me,
I shall never be missed out of this world, so much as
by a dog : and why should I ? — having never in my
time done good to any — but evil — which I have lived
to repent me of, many's the long day and night, and
ever shall whilst I have sense and reason left. In
my youthful days God was too good to me : I had
friends, and a little home of my own to go to — a
pretty spot of land for a farm, as you could see, with
a snug cabin, and every thing complete, and all to be
mine ; for I was the only one my father and mother
had, and accordingly was made much of, too much;
for I grew headstrong upon it, and high, and thought
nothing of any man, and little of any woman, but-
one. That one I surely did think of; and well
worth thinking of she was. Beauty, they say, is all
fancy ; but she was a girl every man might fancy.
Never was one more sought after. She was then
just in her prime, and full of life and spirits ; but

202 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

nothing light in her behaviour — quite modest — yet
obliging. She was too good for me to be thinking
of, no doubt ; but ' faint heart never won fair lady/
so I made bold to speak to Rose, for that was her
name, and after a world of pains, I began to gain
upon her good liking, but couldn't get her to say
more than that she never seen the man she should
fancy so well. This was a great deal from her, for
she was coy and proud-like, as she had a good right
to be ; and, besides being young, loved her little
innocent pleasure, and could not easy be brought to
give up her sway. No fault of hers : but all very
natural. Well ! I always considered she never would
have held out so long, nor have been so stiff with
me, had it not been for an old aunt Honour of hers
— God rest her soul ! One should not be talking ill
of the dead ; but she was more out of my way than
enough ; yet the cratur had no malice in her against
me, only meaning her child's good, as she called it,
but mistook it, and thought to make Rose happy by
some greater match than me, counting her fondness
for me, which she could not but see something of,
childishness, that she would soon be broke of. Now
there was a party of English soldiers quartered in
our town, and there was a sergeant amongst them
that had money, and a pretty place, as they said, in
his own country. He courted Rose, and the aunt
favoured him. He and I could never relish one
another at all. He was a handsome portly man, but
very proud, and looked upon me as dirt under his
feet, because I was an Irishman ; and at every word

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 203

would say, ' That's an Irish bull!' or ' Do you
hear Paddy's brogue ? ' at which his fellow-soldiers,
being all English, would look greatly delighted.
Now all this I could have taken in good part from
any but him, for I was not an ill-humoured fellow ;
but there was a spite in him I plainly saw against
me, and I could not, nor would not take a word from
him against me or my country, especially when Rose
was by, who did not like me the worse for having a
proper spirit. She little thought what would come
of it. Whilst all this was going on, her aunt Honour
found to object against me, that I was wild, and
given to drink ; both which charges were false and
malicious, and I knew could come from none other
than the sergeant, which enraged me the more
against him for speaking so mean behind my back.
Now I knew, that though the sergeant did not drink
spirits, he drank plenty of beer. Rose took it, how-
ever, to heart, and talked very serious upon it,
observing she could never think to marry a man
given to drink, and that the sergeant was remark-
ably sober and staid, therefore most like, as her aunt
Honour said, to make a good husband. The words
went straight to my heart, along with Rose's look.
I said not a word, but went out, resolving, before I
slept, to take an oath against spirits of all sorts for
Rose's sweet sake. That evening I fell in with some
boys of the neighbours, who would have had me
along with them, but I dented myself and them ;
and all I would taste was one parting glass, and
then made my vow in the presence of the priest,

204 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

forswearing spirits for two years. Then I went
straight to her house to tell her what I had done,
not being sensible that I was that same time a little
elevated with the parting glass I had taken. The
first thing I noticed on going into the room was the
man I least wished to see there, and least looked for
at this minute : he was in high talk with the aunt,
and Rose sitting on the other side of him, no way
strange towards him, as I fancied ; but that was
only fancy, and effect of the liquor I had drunk,
which made me see things wrong. I went up, and
put my head between them, asking Rose, did she
know what I had been about?

" ' Yes ; too well ! ' said she, drawing back from
my breath. And the aunt looked at her, and she at
the aunt, and the sergeant stopped his nose, saying
he had not been long enough in Ireland to love the
smell of whiskey. I observed, that was an uncivil
remark in the present company, and added, that I
had not taken a drop that night, but one glass. At
which he sneered, and said that was a bull and a
blunder, but no wonder, as I was an Irishman. I
replied in defence of myself and country. We went
on from one smart word to another ; and some of his
soldiermen being of the company, he had the laugh
against me still. I was vexed to see Rose bear so
well what I could not bear myself. And the talk
grew higher and higher ; and from talking of blun-
ders and such trifles, we got, I cannot myself tell
you how, on to great party matters, and politics, and
religion. And I was a catholic, and he a protestant;

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 205

and there he had the thing still against me. The
company seeing matters not agreeable, dropped off
till none were left but the sergeant, and the aunt,
and Rose, and myself. The aunt gave me a hint to
part, but I would not take it ; for I could not bear
to go away worsted, and borne down as it were by
the English faction, and Rose by to judge. The
aunt was called out by one who wanted her to go
to a funeral next day : the Englishman then let fall
something about our Irish howl, and savages, which
Rose herself said was uncivil, she being an Irish
woman, which he, thinking only of making game on
me, had forgot. I knocked him down, telling him
that it was he that was the savage to affront a lady.
As he got up he said that he'd have the law of me,
if any law was to be had in Ireland.

" ' The law ! ' said I, ' and you a soldier ! '

" ' Do you mean to call me coward ? ' said he.
' This is what an English soldier must not bear.'
With that he snatches at his arms that were beside
him, asking me again, did I mean to call an English-
man coward ?

" ' Tell me first,' said I, ' did you mean to call us
Irish savages ? '

" That's no answer to my question,' says he, ' or
only an Irish answer.'

" ' It is not the worse for that, may be/ says I,
very coolly, despising the man now, and just took
up a knife, that was on the table, to cut off a button
that was hanging at my knee. As I was opening of
the knife he asks me, was I going to stab at him

206 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

with my Irish knife, and directly fixes a bayonet at
me ; on which I seizes a musket and bayonet one of
his men had left, telling him I knew the use of it as
well as he or any Englishman, and better ; for that
I should never have gone, as he did, to charge it
against an unarmed man.

" ' You had your knife,' said he, drawing back.

" ' If I had, it was not thinking of you," said I,
throwing the knife away. ' See ! I'm armed like
yourself now : fight me like a man and a soldier, if
you dare/ says I.

" ' Fight me, if you dare/ says he.

" Rose calls to me to stop; but we were both out of
ourselves at the minute. We thrust at each other —
he missed me — I hit him. Rose ran in between us
to get the musket from my hand : it was loaded, and
went off in the struggle, and the ball lodged in her
body. She fell ! and what happened next I cannot
tell, for the sight left my eyes, and all sense forsook
me. When I came to myself the house was full of
people, going to and fro, some whispering, some
crying ; and, till the words reached my ears, ' Is
she quite dead ? ' I could not understand where I
was, or what had happened. I wished to forget
again, but could not. The whole truth came upon
me, and yet I could not shed a tear ! but just pushed
my way through the crowd into the inner room, and
up to the side of the bed. There she lay stretched,
almost a corpse — quite still ! Her sweet eyes closed,
and no colour in her cheeks, that had been so rosy !
I took hold of one of her hands, that hung down,

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 207

and she then opens her eyes, and knew me directly,
and smiles upon me, and says, ' It was no fault of
yours : take notice, all of you, it was no fault of his
if I die ; but thai I won't do for his sake, if I can
help it ! ' — that was the word she spoke. I think-
ing, from her speaking so strong, that she was not
badly hurt, knelt down to whisper her, that if my
breath did smell of spirits, it was the parting glass
I had tasted before making the vow I had done
against drink for her sake ; and that there was
nothing I would not do for her, if it would please
God to spare her to me. She just pressed my hand,
to show me she was sensible. The priest came in,
and they forced our hands asunder, and carried me
away out of the room. Presently there was a great
cry, and I knew all was over."

Here the old man's voice failed, and he turned his
face from us. When he had somewhat recovered
himself, to change the course of his thoughts, we
asked whether he were prosecuted for his assault on
the English sergeant, and what became of him ?

" Oh ! to do him justice, as one should do to
every one," said the old man, " he behaved very
handsome to me when I was brought to trial ; and
told the whole truth, only blamed himself more than
I would have done, and said it was all his fault for
laughing at me and my nation more than a man
could bear, situated as I was. They acquitted me
through his means. We shook hands, and he hoped
all would go right with me, he said; but nothing
ever went right with me after. I took little note

208 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

ever after of worldly matters : all belonging to me
went to rack and ruin. The hand of God was upon
me : I could not help myself, nor settle mind or
body to any thing. I heard them say sometimes I
was a little touched in my head : however that might
be I cannot say. But at the last I found it was as
good for me to give all that was left to my friends,
who were better able to manage, and more eager for
it than I ; and fancying a roving life would agree with
me best, I quitted the place, taking nothing with me,
but resolved to walk the world, and jiist trust to the
charity of good Christians, or die, as it should please
God. How I have lived so long He only knows, and
his will be done."

CHAPTER X.

IRISH WIT AND ELOQUENCE.

" WILD wit, invention ever new," appear in high
perfection amongst even the youngest inhabitants of
an Irish cottage. The word wit, amongst the lower
classes of Ireland, means not only quickness of re-
partee, but cleverness in action ; it implies invention
and address, with no slight mixture of cunning ; all
which is expressed in their dialect by the single
word 'cuteness (acuteness). Examples will give a

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 209

better notion of this than can be conveyed by any
definition.

An Irish boy (a 'cute lad) saw a train of his com-
panions leading their cars, loaded with kishes* of
turf, coming towards his father's cabin; his father
had no turf, and the question was how some should
be obtained. To beg he was ashamed ; to dig he
was unwilling — but his head went to work directly.
He took up a turf which had fallen from one of the
cars the preceding day, and stuck it on the top of a
pole near the cabin. When the cars were passing,
he appeared throwing turf at the mark. " Boys ! "
cried he, " which of ye will hit ? " Each leader of
the car, as he passed, could not forbear to fling a
turf at the mark; the turf fell at the foot of the
pole, and when all the cars had passed, there was a
heap left sufficient to reward the ingenuity of our
little Spartan.

The same 'cuteness which appears in youth conti-
nues and improves in old age. When general V

was quartered in a small town in Ireland, he and his
lady were regularly besieged, whenever they got
into their carriage, by an old beggar-woman, who
kept her post at the door, assailing them daily with
fresh importunities and fresh tales of distress. At
last the lady's charity, and the general's patience,
were nearly exhausted, but their petitioner's wit
was still in its pristine vigour. One morning, at

* Baskets.

F 1

210 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

the accustomed hour, when the lady was getting
into her carriage, the old woman began — " Agh !
my lady; success to your ladyship, and success to
your honour's honour, this morning, of all days in
the year ; for sure didn't I dream last night that
her ladyship gave me a pound of tea, and that your
honour gave me a pound of tobacco ? "

" But, my good woman," said the general, " do
not you know that dreams always go by the rule of
contrary ? "

" Do they so, plase your honour ? " rejoined the
old woman. " Then it must be your honour that
will give me the tea, and her ladyship that will give
me the tobacco ? "

The general being of Sterne's opinion, that a
bon-mot is always worth more than a pinch of
snuff, gave the ingenious dreamer the value of her
dream.

Innumerable instances might be quoted of the
Hibernian genius, not merely for repartee, but for
what the Italians call pasquinade. We shall cite
only one, which is already so well known in Ireland,
that we cannot be found guilty of publishing a libel.
Over the ostentatious front of a nobleman's house in
Dublin, the owner had this motto cut in stone : —

" Otium cum dignitate. — Leisure with dignity."

In process of time his lordship changed his resi-
dence; or, since we must descend to plebeian Ian-

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 211

guage, was committed to Newgate, and immediately
there appeared over the front of his apartment his
chosen motto, as large as the life, in white chalk,

" Otium cum dignitate."

Mixed with keen satire, the Irish often show a
sort of cool good sense and dry humour, which gives
not only effect, but value to their impromptus. Of
this class is the observation made by the Irish hack-
ney coachman, upon seeing a man of the ton driving
four-in-hand down Bond-street.

" That fellow," said our observer, " looks like a
coachman, but drives like a gentleman."

As an instance of humour mixed with sophistry,
we beg the reader to recollect the popular story of
the Irishman who was run over by a troop of horse,
and miraculously escaped unhurt.

"Down upon your knees and thank God, you
reprobate," said one of the spectators.

" Thank God ! for what ? Is it for letting a troop
of horse run over me ? "

In this speech there is the same sort of humour
and sophistry that appears in the Irishman's cele-
brated question : " What has posterity done for me,
that I should do so much for posterity ? "

The Irish nation, from the highest to the lowest,
in daily conversation about the ordinary affairs of
life, employ a superfluity of wit and metaphor which
would be astonishing and unintelligible to a majority
of the respectable body of English yeomen. Even
p2

212 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

the cutters of turf and drawers of whiskey are
orators ; even the cottiers and gossoons speak in trope
and figure. Ask an Irish gossoon to go early in the
morning, on an errand, and he answers,

" I'll be off at the flight of night."

If an Irish cottager would express to his landlord
that he wishes for a long lease of his land, he says,

" I would be proud to live on your honour's land
as long as grass grows or water runs."

One of our English poets has nearly the same
idea : —

" As long as streams in silver mazes run,

Or spring with annual green renews the grove."

Without the advantages of a classical education,
the lower Irish sometimes make similes that bear a
near resemblance to those of the admired poets of
antiquity. A loyalist, during the late rebellion, was
describing to us the number of the rebels who had
gathered on one spot, and were dispersed by the
king's army ; rallied, and were again put to flight.

" They were," said he, " like swarms of flies on a
summer's day, that you brush away with your hand,
and still they will be returning."

There is a simile of Homer's which, literally trans-
lated, runs thus : " As the numerous troops of flies
about a shepherd's cottage in the spring, when the
milk moistens the pails, such numbers of Greeks
stood in the field against the Trojans." Lord Kames
observes, that it is false taste to condemn such com-

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 213

parisons for the lowness of the images introduced.
In fact, great objects cannot be degraded by com-
parison with small ones in these similes, because the
only point of resemblance is number ; the mind in-
stantly perceives this, and therefore requires no other
species of similitude.

When we attempt to judge of the genius of the
lower classes of the people, we must take care that
we are not under the influence of any prejudice of an
aristocratic or literary nature. But this is no easy
effort of liberty.

" Agh ! Dublin, sweet J&sus be wid you ! " ex-
claimed a poor Irishman, as he stood on the deck of
a vessel, which was carrying him out of the bay of
Dublin. The pathos of this poor fellow will not
probably affect delicate sensibility, because he says
rvid instead of with, and Jasus instead of Jesus.
Adam Smith is certainly right in his theory, that
the sufferings of those in exalted stations have gene-
rally most power to command our sympathy. The
very same sentiment of sorrow at leaving his country,
which was expressed so awkwardly by the poor Irish-
man, appears, to every reader of taste, exquisitely
pathetic from the lips of Mary queen of Scots.

" Farewell, France ! Farewell, beloved country !
which I shall never more behold ! "*

In anger as well as in sorrow the Irishman is elo-
quent. A gentleman who was lately riding through
the county of , in Ireland, to canvass, called to

" Vide Robertson's History of Scotland.

214 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

ask a vote from a poor man, who was planting willows
in a little garden by the road side.

" You have a vote, my good sir, I am told," said
the candidate, in an insinuating tone.

The poor man struck the willow which he had in
his hand into the ground, and with a deliberate pace
came towards the candidate to parley with him.

" Please your honour," said he gravely, " I have
a vote, and I have not a vote."

" How can that be ? "

" I will tell you, sir," said he, leaning, or rather
lying down slowly upon the back of the ditch facing
the road, so that the gentleman, who was on horse-
back, could see only his head and arms.

" Sir," said he, " out of this little garden, with my
five acres of land and my own labour, I once had
a freehold ; but I have been robbed of my freehold ;
and who do you think has robbed me? why, that
man ! " pointing to his landlord's steward, who stood
beside the candidate. " With my own hands I
sowed my own ground with oats, and a fine crop I
expected — but I never reaped that crop: not a
bushel, no, nor half a bushel, did I ever see ; for into
my little place comes this man, with I don't know
how many more, with their shovels and their barrows,
and their horses and their cars, and to work they
fell, and they ran a road straight through the best
part of my land, turning all to heaps of rubbish, and
a bad road it was, and a bad time of year to make it !
But where was / when he did this ? not where I am
now," said the orator, raising himself up and stand-

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 215

ing firm; "not as you see me now, but lying on my
back in my bed in a fever. When T got up I was
not able to make my rent out of my land. Besides
myself, I had my five children to support. I sold my
clothes, and have never been able to buy any since
but such as a recruit could sell, who was in haste to
get into regimentals — such clothes as these," said
he, looking down at his black rags. " Soon I had
nothing to eat : but that's not all. I am a weaver,
sir : for my rent they seized my two looms ; then I
had nothing to do. But of all this I do not complain.
There was an election some time ago in this county,
and a man rode up to me in this garden as you do
now, and asked me for my vote, but I refused him,
for I was steady to my landlord. The gentleman
observed I was a poor man, and asked if I wanted
for nothing ? but all did not signify ; so he rode on
gently, and at the corner of the road, within view of
my garden, I saw him drop a purse, and I knew, by
his looking at me, it was on purpose for me to pick
it up. After a while he came back, thinking, to be
sure, I had taken up the purse, and had changed my
mind, but he found his purse where he left it. My
landlord knew all this, and he promised to see
justice done me, but he forgot. Then, as for the
candidate's lady, before the election nothing was too
fair-speaking for me ; but afterward, in my distress,
when I applied to her to get me a loom, which she
could have had from the Linen Board by only asking
for it, her answer to me was, ' I don't know that I
shall ever want a vote again in the county.'

216 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

" Now, sir," continued he, " when justice is done
to me (and no sooner), I shall be glad to assist my
landlord or his friend. I know who you are, sir,
very well : you bear a good character : success to
you ! but I have no vote to give to you or any man."

"If I were to attempt to make you any amends
for what you have suffered," replied the candidate,
" I should do you an injury ; it would be said that I
had bribed you ; but I will repeat your story where
it will meet with attention. I cannot, however, tell
it so well as you have told it."

" No, sir," was his answer, " for you cannot feel it
as I do."

This is almost in terms the conclusion of Pope's
epistle from Eloisa to Abelard : —

" He best can paint them who shall feel them most."

In objurgation and pathetic remonstrancing elo-
quence, the females of the lower class in Ireland are
not inferior to the men. A thin tall \voman wrapped
in a long cloak, the hood of which was drawn over
her head, and shaded her pale face, came to a gentle-
man to complain of the cruelty of her landlord.

" He is the most hard-hearted man alive, so he is,
sir," said she ; " he has just seized all I have, which,
God knows, is little enough ! and has driven my cow
to pound, the only cow I have, and only dependance
I have for a drop of milk to drink ; and the cow
itself too standing there starving in the pound, for
not a wisp of hay would he give to cow or Christian

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 217

to save their lives, if it was ever so ! And the rent
for which he is driving me, please your honour, has
not been due but one week : a hard master he is ; but
these middle men are all so, one and all. Oh ! if it
had been but my lot to be a tenant to a gentleman born,
like your honour, who is the poor man's friend, and
the orphan's, and the widow's — the friend of them
that have none other. Long life to you ! and long
may you live to reign over us ! Would you but speak
three words to my landlord, to let my cow out of
pound, and give me a fortnight's time, that I might
see and fatten her to sell against the fair, I could pay
him then all honestly, and not be racked entirely,
and he would be ashamed to refuse your honour, and
afraid to disoblige the like of you, or get your ill-will.
May the blessing of Heaven be upon you, if you'll
just send and speak to him three words for the poor
woman and widow, that has none other to speak for
her in the wide world."

Moved by this lamentable story, the effect of which
the woman's whole miserable appearance corroborated
and heightened, the gentleman sent immediately for
her hard-hearted landlord. The landlord appeared ;
not a gentleman, not a rich man, as the term landlord
might denote, but a stout, square, stubbed, thick-
limbed, gray-eyed man, who seemed to have come
smoking hot from hard labour. The gentleman re-
peated the charge made against him by the poor
widow, and mildly remonstrated on his cruelty : the.
man heard all that was said with a calm but unmoved
countenance.

218 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

" And now have you done ?" said he, turning to
the woman, you had recommenced her lamentations,
" Look at her standing there, sir. It's easy for her
to put on her long cloak, and to tell her long story,
and to make her poor mouth to your honour ; but if
you are willing to hear, I'll tell you what she is, and
what I am. She is one that has none but herself in
this world to provide for ; she is one that is able to
afford herself a glass of whiskey when she pleases,
and she pleases it often ; she is one that never denies
herself the bit of staggering bob* when in season;
she is one that has a snug house well thatched to
live in all the year round, and nothing to do or
nothing that she does; and this is the way of her
life, and this is what she is. And what am I ? I
am the father of eight children, and I have a wife
and myself to provide for. I am a man that is at
hard labour of one kind or another from sunrise to
sunset. The straw that thatched the house she lives
in I brought two miles on my back ; the walls of the
house she lives in I built with my own hands ; I did
the same by five other houses, and they are all sound
and dry, and good to live in, summer or winter. I
set them for rent to put bread into my children's
mouth, and after all I cannot get it ! And to sup-
port my eight children, and my wife, and myself,
what have I in this world," cried he, striding
suddenly with colossal firmness upon his sturdy legs,
and raising to heaven arms which looked like fore-

" Slink calf.

E8SAY ON IRISH BULLS. 219

shortenings of the limbs of Hercules; " what have /
in this wide world but these four bones ? " *

No provocation could have worked up a phlegmatic
English countryman to this pitch of eloquence. He
never suffers his anger to evaporate in idle figures of
speech : it is always concentrated in a few words,
which he repeats in reply to every argument, per-
suasive, or invective, that can be employed to irritate
or to assuage his wrath. We recollect having once
been present at a scene between an English gentle-
man and a churchwarden, whose feelings were griev-
ously hurt by the disturbance that had been given
to certain bones in levelling a wall which separated
the churchyard from the pleasure ground of the lord
of the manor. The bones belonged, as the church-
warden believed or averred, to his great great grand-
mother, though how they were identified it might be
difficult to explain to an indifferent judge ; yet we
are to suppose that the confirmation of the suspicion
was strong and satisfactory to the party concerned.
The pious great great grandson's feelings were all in
arms, but indignation did not inspire him with a
single poetic idea or expression. In his eloquence,
indeed, there was the principal requisite, action : in
reply to all that could be said, he repeatedly struck
his long oak stick perpendicularly upon the floor, and
reiterated these words —

" It's death, sir ! death by the law ! It's sacrilege,

* This was written down a few minutes after it had been
spoken.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

sir ! sacrilege by act of parliament ! It's death, sir !
death by the law ! and the law I'll have of him, for
it's lawful to have the law."

This was the whole range of his ideas, even when
the passions had tumbled them all out of their dormi-
tories.

Innumerable fresh instances of Irish eloquence
and wit crowd upon our recollection, but we forbear.
The examples we have cited are taken from real
life, and given without alteration or embellishment.

CHAPTER XL

THE BROGUE.

HAVING proved by a perfect syllogism that the Irish
must blunder, we might rest satisfied with our
labours ; but there are minds of so perverse a sort,
that they will not yield their understandings to the
torturing power of syllogism.

It may be waste of time to address ourselves to
persons of such a cast ; we shall therefore change our
ground, and adapt our arguments to the level of
vulgar capacities. Much of the comic effect of Irish
bulls, or of such speeches as are mistaken for bulls,
has depended upon the tone, or brogue, as it is called,
with M'hich they are uttered. The first Irish blun-

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 221

tiers that we hear are made or repeated in this pecu-
liar tone, and afterward, from the power of association,
whenever we hear the tone we expect the blunder.
Now there is little danger that the Irish should be
cured of their brogue ; and consequently there is no
great reason to apprehend that we should cease to
think or call them blunderers.

Of the powerful effect of any peculiarity of pro-
nunciation to prepossess the mind against the speaker,
nay even to excite dislike amounting to antipathy,
we have an instance attested by an eye-witness, or
rather an ear-witness.

" In the year 1755," says the Rev. James Adams,
" I attended a public disputation in a foreign uni-
versity, M'hen at least 400 Frenchmen literally hissed
a grave and learned English doctor, not by way of
insult, but irresistibly provoked by the quaintness of
the repetition of sh. The thesis was, the concur-
rence of God in actionibus viciosis: the whole hall re-
sounded with the hissing cry of sh, and its continual
occurrence in actio, actione, viciosa, &c.

It is curious that Shiboleth should so long continue
a criterion among nations !

What must have been the degree of irritation that
could so far get the better of the politeness of 400
Frenchmen as to make them hiss in the days of
I'ancien regime ! The dread of being the object of
that species of antipathy or ridicule which is excited
by unfashionable peculiarity of accent has induced
many of the misguided natives of Ireland to affect
what they imagine to be the English pronunciation.

222 JESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

They are seldom successful in this attempt, for they
generally overdo the business. We are told by
Theophrastus, that a barbarian, who had taken some
pains to attain the true Attic dialect, was discovered
to be a foreigner by his speaking the Attic dialect
with a greater degree of precision and purity than
was usual amongst the Athenians themselves. To
avoid the imputation of committing barbarisms,
people sometimes run into solecisms, which are yet
more ridiculous. Affectation is alwrays more ridi-
culous than ignorance.

There are Irish ladies, who, ashamed of their
country, betray themselves by mincing out their ab-
juration, by calling tables teebles, and chairs cheers !
To such renegadoes we prefer the honest quixotism
of a modern champion* for the Scottish accent, who,
holding asserting that " the broad dialect rises above
reproach, scorn, and laughter," enters the lists, as he
says of himself, in Tartan dress and armour, and
throws down the gauntlet to the most prejudiced
antagonist. "How weak is prejudice!" pursues
this patriotic enthusiast. " The sight of the High-
land kelt, the flowing plaid, the buskined leg, pro-
vokes my antagonist to laugh ! Is this dress ridi-
culous in the eves of reason and common sense?

* James Adams, S. R. E. S., author of a book entitled,
" The Pronunciation of the English Language vindicated from
imputed Anomaly and Caprice ; with an Appendix on the
Dialects of Human Speech in all Countries, and an analytical
Discussion and Vindication of the Dialect of Scotland."

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 223

No ; nor is the dialect of speech : both are charac-
teristic and national distinctions.

" The arguments of general vindication," continues
he, "rise powerful before my sight, like the Highland
bands in full array. A louder strain of apologetic
speech swells my words. What if it should rise high
as the unconquered summits of Scotia's hills, and call
back, with voice sweet as Caledonian song, the days
of ancient Scottish heroes ; or attempt the powerful
speech of the Latian orator, or his of Greece ! The
subject, methinks, would well accord with the attempt:
Cupidum, Scotia optima, vires deficiunl. I leave this
to the king of songs. Dunbar and Dunkeld, Douglas
in Virgilian strains, and later poets, Ramsay, Fer-
guson, and Burns, awake from your graves ; you have
already immortalized the Scotch dialect in raptured
melody ! Lend me your golden target and well-
pointed spear, that I may victoriously pursue, to the
extremity of South Britain, reproachful ignorance
and scorn still lurking there : let impartial candour
seize their usurped throne. Great, then, is the birth
of this national dialect," &c.

So far so good. We have some sympathy with the
rhapsodist, whose enthusiasm kindles at the names
of Allan Ramsay and of Burns; nay, we are willing
to hear (with a grain of allowance) that " the manly
eloquence of the Scotch bar affords a singular pleasure
to the candid English hearer, and gives merit and
dignity to the noble speakers, who retain so much of
their own dialect and tempered propriety of English
sounds, that they may be emphatically termed British

224 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

orators." But we confess that we lose our patient
decorum, and are almost provoked to laughter, when
our philological Quixote seriously sets about to prove
that Adam and Eve spoke broad Scotch in Paradise.

How angry has this grave patriot reason to be
with his ingenious countryman Beattie,* the cele-
brated champion of Truth, who acknowledges that
he never could, when a boy or man, look at a certain
translation of Ajax's speech into one of the vulgar
Scotch dialects without laughing !

We shall now with boldness, similar to that of the
Scotch champion, try the risible muscles of our
English reader; we are not, indeed, inclined to
go quite such lengths as he has gone : he insists,
that the Scotch dialect ought to be adopted all over
England ; we are only going candidly to confess,
that we think the Irish, in general, speak better
English than is commonly spoken by the natives of
England. To limit this proposition so as to make it
appear less absurd, we should observe, that we allude
to the lower classes of the people in both countries.
In some counties in Ireland, a few of the poorest
labourers and cottagers do not understand English,
they speak only Irish, as in Wales there are vast
numbers who speak only Welsh; but amongst those
who speak English we find fewer vulgarisms than
amongst the same rank of persons in England. The
English which they speak is chiefly such as has been
traditional in their families from the time of the

* Vide Illustrations on Sublimity, in his Essays.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 225

early settlers in the island. During the reign of
Elizabeth and the reign of Shakspeare, numbers of
English migrated to Ireland ; and whoever attends
to the phraseology of the lower Irish may, at this
day, hear many of the phrases and expressions used
by Shakspeare. Their vocabulary has been preserved
nearly in its pristine purity since that time, because
they have not had intercourse with those counties in
England which have made for themselves a jargon
unlike to any language under heaven. The Irish
brogue is a great and shameful defect, but it does
not render the English language absolutely unintel-
ligible. There are but a few variations of the brogue,
such as the long and the short, the Thady brogue
and Paddy brogue, which differ much in tone, and
but little in phraseology ; but in England, almost all
of our fifty-two counties have peculiar vulgarisms,
dialects, and brogues, unintelligible to their neigh-
bours. Herodotus tells us that some of the nations
of Greece, though they used the same language,
spoke it so differently, that they could not under-
stand each other's conversation. This is literally
the case at present between the provincial inhabit-
ants of remote parts of England. Indeed the lan-
guage peculiar to the metropolis, or the cockney
dialect, is proverbially ridiculous. The Londoners,
who look down with contempt upon all that have not
been bred and born within the sound of Bow, talk
with unconscious absurdity of weal and winegar, and
vine and vindors, and idears, and ask you oiv you do ?
Q 1

226 ESSAY ON IRISH BUJLLS.

and 'ave ye bin taking the Aair in 'yde park ? and 'a*
your 'orse 'ad any Aoats, &c. ? aspirating always
where they should not, and never aspirating where
they should.

The Zummerzetzheer dialect, full of broad oos and
eternal zeds, supplies never-failing laughter when
brought upon the stage. Even a cockney audience
relishes the broad pronunciation of John Moody, in
the Journey to London, or of Sim in Wild Oats.

The cant of Suffolk, the vulgarisms of Shropshire,
the uncouth phraseology of the three ridings of York-
shire, amaze and bewilder foreigners, who perhaps
imagine that they do not understand English, when
they are in company with those who cannot speak it.
The patois of Languedoc and Champagne, such as
" Mein Jis sest at bai via," Mon fils c'est un beau
veau, exercises, it is true, the ingenuity of travellers,
and renders many scenes of Moliere and Marivaux
difficult, if not unintelligible, to those who have
never resided in the French provinces; but no
French patois is more unintelligible than the follow-
ing specimen of Tummas and Meary's Lancashire
dialogue : —

Thomas. " Whau, but I startit up to goa to th'
tits, on slurr'd deawn to th' lower part o' th' hey-
mough, on by th' maskins, lord ! whot dust think ?
boh leet hump stridd'n up o' summot ot felt meety
heury, on it startit weh meh on its back, deawn th'
lower part o' th' mough it jumpt, crost th' leath,
eaw't o' th' dur whimmey it took, on into th' wetur-

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 227

i ng poo, os if th' dule o' hell had driv'n it, on there
it threw meh en, or 1 fell off, I connaw tell whether,
for th' life o' meh, into the poo."

Mary. " Whoo-wo, whoo-wo, whoo ! whot, ith
neme o' God ! widneh sey ? "

Thomas. " If it wur naw Owd Nick, he wur th'
orderer on't, to be shure * * *. Weh mitch powlering
I geet eawt o' th' poo, 'lieve * meh, as to list, I could
na tell whether i'r in a sleawm or wak'n, till eh
groapt ot meh een ; I crope under a wough and stode
like o' gawmblingjt or o parfit neatril, till welly
day," &c.

Let us now listen to a conversation which we hope
will not be quite so unintelligible.

CHAPTER XII.

BATH COACH CONVERSATION.

IN one of the coaches which travel between Bath
and London, an Irish, a Scotch, and an English
gentleman happened to be passengers. They were
well informed and well-bred, had seen the world,

• The glossary to the Lancashire dialect informs us, that
'lieve me comes from beleemy, believe me ; from belamy, my
good friend, old French.

+ Gawmbling (Anglo Saxon gawmless), stupid.
Q2

228 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

had lived in good company, and were consequently
superior to local and national prejudice. As their
conversation was illustrative of our subject, we shall
make no apology for relating it. We pass the usual
preliminary compliments, and the observations upon
the Mreather and the roads. The Irish gentleman
first started a more interesting subject — the Union ;
its probable advantages and disadvantages were fully
discussed, and, at last, the Irishman said, " What-
ever our political opinions may be, there is one wish
in which we shall all agree, that the Union may
make us better acquainted with one another."

" It is surprising," said the Englishman, " how
ignorant we English in general are of Ireland : to be
sure we do not now, as in the times of Bacon and
Spenser, believe that wild Irishmen have Avings; nor
do we all of us give credit to Mr. Twiss's assertion,
that if you look at an Irish lady, she answers, ' port,
if you please' "

Scotchman. — " That traveller seems to be almost
as liberal as he who defined oats — food for horses in
England, and for men in Scotland : such illiberal
notions die away of themselves."

Irishman. — " Or they are contradicted by more
liberal travellers. I am sure my country has great
obligations to the gallant English and Scotch mili-
tary, not only for so readily assisting to defend and
quiet us, but for spreading in England a juster
notion of Ireland. Within these few months, I sup-
pose, more real knowledge of the state and manners

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 229

of that kingdom has been diffused in England by
their means, than had been obtained during a whole
century."

Scotchman. — " Indeed, I do not recollect having
read any author of note who has given me a notion
of Ireland since Spenser and Davies, except Arthur
Young."

Englishman. — " What little knowledge I have of
Ireland has been drawn more from observation than
from books. I remember when I first went over
there, I did not expect to see twenty trees in the
whole island : I imagined that I should have nothing
to drink but whiskey, that I should have nothing to
eat but potatoes, that I should sleep in mud-walled
cabins; that I should, when awake, hear nothing
but the Irish howl, the Irish brogue, Irish answers,
and Irish bulls ; and that if I smiled at any of these
things, a hundred pistols would fly from their
holsters to give or demand satisfaction. But expe-
rience taught me better things : I found that the
stories I had heard were tales of other times. Their
hospitality, indeed, continues to this day."

Irishman. — -" It does, I believe ; but of later
days, as we have been honoured with the visits of
a greater number of foreigners, our hospitality has
become less extravagant."

Englishman. — " Not less agreeable : Irish hospi-
tality, I speak from experience, does not now consist
merely in pushing about the bottle ; the Irish are
convivial, but their conviviality is seasoned with wit
and humour ; they have plenty of good conversation

230

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

as well as good cheer for their guests ; and they not
only have wit themselves, but they love it in others ;
they can take as well as give a joke. I never lived
with a more good-humoured, generous, open-hearted
people than the Irish."

Irishman. — " I wish Englishmen, in general,
were half as partial to poor Ireland as you are,
sir."

Englishman. — " Or rather you wish that they
knew the country as well, and then they would do
it as much justice."

Irishman. — " You do it something more than
justice, I fear. There are little peculiarities in my
countrymen which will long be justly the subject of
ridicule in England."

Scotchman. — " Not among well-bred and well-
informed people : those who have seen or read of
great varieties of customs and manners are never apt
to laugh at all that may differ from their own. As
the sensible author of the Government of the Tongue
says, ' Half-witted people are always the bitterest
revilers.' "

Irishman. — " You are very indulgent, gentlemen ;
but, in spite of all your politeness, you must allow,
or, at least, I must confess, that there are little de-
fects in the Irish government of the tongue at which
even rvhole-\vitted people must laugh."

Scotchman. — " The well-educated people in all
countries, I believe, escape the particular accent,
and avoid the idiom, that are characteristic of the
vulgar."

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 231

Irishman. — " But even when we escape Irish
brogue, we cannot escape Irish bulls."

Englishman. — " You need not say Irish bulls
with such emphasis ; for bulls are not peculiar to
Ireland. I have been informed by a person of un-
questionable authority, that there is a town in Ger-
many, Hirschau, in the Upper Palatinate, where the
inhabitants are famous for making bulls."

Irishman. — " I am truly glad to hear we have
companions in disgrace. Numbers certainly lessen
the effect of ridicule as well as of shame : but, after
all, the Irish idiom is peculiarly unfortunate, for it
leads perpetually to blunder."

Scotchman. — " I have heard the same remarked
of the Hebrew. I am told that the Hebrew and
Irish idiom are much alike."

Irishman (latighing) — " That is a great comfort
to us, certainly, particularly to those amongst us who
are fond of tracing our origin up to the remotest an-
tiquity; but still there are many who would willingly
give up the honour of this high alliance to avoid its
inconveniences ; for my own part, if I could ensure
myself and my countrymen from all future danger
of making bulls and blunders, I would this instant
give up all Hebrew roots; and even the Ogham
character itself I would renounce, ' to make assurance
doubly sure.'"

Englishman. — " ' To make assurance doubly sure.'
Now there is an example in our great Shakspeare of
what I have often observed, that we English allow
our poets and ourselves a license of speech that we

232 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

deny to our Hibernian neighbours. If an Irishman,
instead of Shakspeare, had talked of making ' as-
surance doubly sure/ we should have asked how that
could be. The vulgar in England are too apt to
catch at every slip of the tongue made by Irishmen.
I remember once being present when an Irish noble-
man, of talents and literature, was actually hissed
from the hustings at a Middlesex election because in
his speech he happened to say, ' We have laid the
root to the axe of the tree of liberty,' instead of ' we
have laid the axe to the root of the tree/ "

Scotchman. — " A lapsus linguae, that might have
been made by the greatest orators, ancient or modern ;
by Cicero or Chatham, by Burke, or by ' the fluent
Murray/ "

Englishman — " Upon another occasion I have
heard that an Irish orator was silenced with ' inex-
tinguishable laughter' merely for saying, ' I am sorry
to hear my honourable friend stand mute/ "

Scotchman. — " If I am not mistaken, that very
same Irish orator made an allusion at which no one
could laugh. ' The protection/ said he, ' which
Britain affords to Ireland in the day of adversity, is
like that which the oak affords to the ignorant coun-
tryman, who flies to it for shelter in the storm ; it
draws down upon his head the lightning of heaven : '
may be I do not repeat the words exactly, but I
could not forget the idea."

Englishman. — " I would with all my heart bear
the ridicule of a hundred blunders for the honour of
having made such a simile : after all, his saying, ' I

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 233

am sorry to hear my honourable friend stand mute,'
if it be a bull, is justified by Homer ; one of the
charms in the cestus of Venus is,

' Silence that speaks, and eloquence of eyes.' "

Scotchman. — " Silence that speaks, sir, is, I am
afraid, an English, not a Grecian charm. It is not
in the Greek ; it is one of those beautiful liberties
which Mr. Pope has taken with his original. But
silence that speaks can be found in France as well
as in England. Voltaire, in his chef-d'oeuvre, his
CEdipus, makes Jocasta say,

' Tout parle contre nous jusqu'a notre silence.'' "*

Englishman. — "And in our own Milton, Samson
Agonistes makes as good, indeed a better, bull ;
for he not only makes the mute speak, but speak
loud : —

' The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the doer.'

And in Paradise Lost we have, to speak in fashion-
able language, two famous bulls. Talking of Satan,
Milton says,

' God and his Son except,
Created thing nought valued he nor shunn'd.'

And speaking of Adam and Eve, and their sons and
* "Every thing speaks against us, even our silence."

234 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

daughters, he confounds them all together in a
manner for which any Irishman would have been
laughed to scorn : —

' Adam, the goodliest man of men since born,
His sons ; the fairest of her daughters Eve.'

Yet Addison, who notices these blunders, calls them
only little blemishes."

Scotchman. — " He does so ; and he quotes Horace,
who tells us we should impute such venial errors to
a pardonable inadvertency; and, as I recollect,
Addison makes another very just remark, that the
ancients, who were actuated by a spirit of candour,
not of cavilling, invented a variety of figures of
speech, on purpose to palliate little errors of this
nature."

"Really, gentlemen," interrupted the Hibernian,
what had sat all this time in silence that spoke his
grateful sense of the politeness of his companions,
" you will put the finishing stroke to my obligations
to you, if you will prove that the ancient figures of
speech were invented to palliate Irish blunders."

Englishman. — " No matter for what purpose they
were invented ; if we can make so good a use of them
we shall be satisfied, especially if you are pleased. I
will, however, leave the burthen of the proof upon
my friend here, who has detected me already in
quoting from Pope's Iliad instead of Homer's. I am
sure he will manage the ancient figures of rhetoric
better than I should ; however, if I can fight behind
his shield I shall not shun the combat."

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 235

Scotchman — " I stand corrected for quoting
Greek. Now I will not go to Longinus for my
tropes and figures; I have just met with a little
book on the subject, which I put into my pocket
to-day, intending to finish it on my journey, but I
have been better employed."

He drew from his pocket a book, called " Deino-
logy; or the Union of Reason and Elegance."
" Look," said he, " look at this long list of tropes
and figures ; amongst them we could find apologies
for every species of Irish bulls ; but in mercy, I will
select, from ' the twenty chief and most moving
figures of speech,' only the oxymoron, as it is a
favourite with Irish orators. In the oxymoron con-
tradictions meet : to reconcile these, Irish ingenuity
delights. I will further spare four out of the seven
figures of less note : emphasis, cnallage, and the
hysteron proteron you must have ; because emphasis
graces Irish diction, enallage unbinds it from strict
grammatical fetters, and hysteron proteron allows it
sometimes to put the cart before the horse. Of the
eleven grammatical figures, Ireland delights chiefly
in the antimeria, or changing one part of speech for
another, and in the ellipsis or defect. Of the re-?
maining long list of figures, the Irish are particularly
disposed to the epizeuxis, as ' indeed, indeed — at all,
at all,' and antanaclasis, or double meaning. The
tautotes, or repetition of the same thing, is, I think,
full as common amongst the English. The hyper-
bole and catachresis are so nearly related to a bull,
that I shall dwell upon them with pleasure. You

236 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

must listen to the definition of a catachresis : — •* A
catachresis is the boldest of any trope. Necessity
makes it borrow and employ an expression or term
contrary to the thing it means to express."

" Upon my word this is something like a descrip-
tion of an Irish bull," interrupted the Hibernian.

Scotchman. — " For instance, it has been said,
Equilare in arundine longa, to ride on horseback on
a stick. Reason condemns the contradiction, but
necessity has allowed it, and use has made it intel-
ligible. The same trope is employed in the following
metaphorical expression : — the seeds of the Gospel
have been watered by the blood of the martyrs."

Englishman. — " That does seem an absurdity, I
grant ; but you know great orators trample on impos-
sibilities." *

Scotchman. — " And great poets get the better of
them. You recollect Shakspeare says,

' Now bid me run,

And I will strive with things impossible,
Yea, get the better oftfam."

Englishman. — " And Corneille, in the Cid, I
believe, makes his hero a compliment upon his having
performed impossibilities — ' Vos mains seules ont le
droit de vaincre un invincible.' " t

Scotchman. — " Ay, that would be a bull in an

* Lord Chatham.

t Your hands alone have a right to conquer the unconqitirable.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. &>/

Irishman; but it is only an hyperbole in a French-
man."

Irishman. — " Indeed this line of Corneille's out
hyperboles the hyperbole, considered in any but a
prophetic light ; as a prophecy, it exactly foretels
the taking of Bonaparte's invincible standard by the
glorious forty-second regiment of the British : f Your
hands alone have a right to vanquish the invincible.'
By-the-bye, the phrase ont le droit cannot, I believe,
be literally translated into English ; but the Scotch
and Irish, have a right, translates it exactly. But
do not let me linterrupt my country's defence, gen-
tlemen ; I am heartily glad to find Irish blunderers
may shelter themselves in such good company in the
ancient sanctuary of the hyperbole. But I am
afraid you must deny admittance to the poor mason,
who said, ' this house will stand as long as the world,
and longer.'"

Scotchman. — " Why should we ' shut the gates of
mercy' upon him when we pardon his betters for
more flagrant sins ? for instance, Mr. Pope, who, in
his Essay on Criticism, makes a blunder, or rather
uses an hyperbole, stronger than that of your poor
Irish mason : —

' When first young Maro in his noble mind
A work f outlast immortal Rome design'd.*

And to give you a more modern case, I lately heard
an English shopkeeper say to a lady in recommenda-
tion of his goods, ' Ma'am, it will wear for ever, and
make you a petticoat afterwards.' "

238 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

Irishman. — " Upon my word, I did not think you
could have found a match for the mason ; but what
will you say to my countryman, who, on meeting an
acquaintance, accosted him with this ambiguous
compliment — ' When first I saw you I thought it
was you, but now I see it is your brother.' "

Scotchman. — " If I were not afraid you would
take me for a pedant, I should quote a sentence from
Cicero that is not far behind this blunder."

Irishman. — " I can take you for nothing but a
friend : pray let us have the Latin."

Scotchman. — " It is one of Cicero's compliments
to Caesar — ' Qui, cum ipse imperator in toto imperio
populi Romani unus esset, esse me alterum passus
est.'* Perhaps," continued the Scotchman, " my
way of pronouncing Latin sounds strangely to you,
gentlemen?"

Irishman. — " And perhaps ours would be unin-
telligible to Cicero himself, if he were to overhear
us : I fancy we are all so far from right, that we
need not dispute about degrees of wrong."

The coach stopped at this instant, and the conver-
sation was interrupted.

* And when Caesar was the only emperor within the dominion
of Rome, he suffered me to be another.

CHAPTER XIII.

BATH COACH CONVERSATION.

AFTER our travellers had dined, the conversation
was renewed by the English gentleman's repeating
Goldsmith's celebrated lines on Burke :

'f Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining,
And thought of convincing, whilst they thought of dining ;
In short, 'twas his fate, unemployed or in place, sir,
To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor."

" What humour and wit there are in that poem of
Goldsmith's ! and where is there any thing equal to
his ' Traveller?'"

Irishman. — " Yet this is the man who used to be
the butt of the company for his bulls."

Englishman. — " No, not for his bulls, but for
blurting out opinions in conversation that could not
stand the test of Dr. Johnson's critical powers. But
what would become of the freedom of wit and humour
if every word that came out of our mouths were
subject to the tax of a professed critic's censure, or
if every sentence were to undergo a logical examina-
tion ? It would be well for Englishmen if they were
a little more inclined, like your open-hearted country-
men, to blurt out their opinions freely."

Scotchman. — " I cannot forgive Dr. Johnson for

240 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

calling Goldsmith an inspired idiot ; I confess I see
no idiotism, but much inspiration, in his works."

Irishman. — " But we must remember, that if
Johnson did laugh at Goldsmith, he would let no one
else laugh ,at him, and he was his most sincere and
active friend. The \rorld would, perhaps, never have
seen the ' Vicar of Wakefield ' if Johnson had not
recommended it to a bookseller ; and Goldsmith might
have died in gaol if the doctor had not got him a
hundred pounds for it, when poor Goldsmith did not
know it was worth a shilling. When we recollect
this, we must forgive the doctor for calling him, in
jest, an inspired idiot." \

Scotchman, — " Especially as Goldsmith has wit
enough to bear him up against a thousand such
jests."

Englishman. — " It is curious to observe how nearly
wit and absurdity are allied. We may forgive the
genius of Ireland if he sometimes

* Leap his light courser o'er the bounds of taste.'

Even English genius is not always to be restrained
within the strict limits of common sense. For in-
stance, Young is witty when he says,

' How would a miser startle to be told
Of such a wonder as insolvent gold.'

But Johnson is, I am afraid, absurd when he says,

* Turn from the glittering bribe your scornful eye,
Nor sell for gold what gold can never buy.' "

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 241

Cf One case, to be sure, must be excepted," said
the Irishman ; " a patriot may sell his reputation,
and the purchaser get nothing by it. But, gentlemen,
I have just recollected an example of an Irish bull
in which are all the happy requisites, incongruity,
confusion, and laughable confusion, both in thought
and expression. When sir Richard Steele was asked,
how it happened that his countrymen made so many
bulls, he replied, ' It is the effect of climate, sir ; if
an Englishman were born in Ireland, he would make
as many.'

Scotchman. — " This is an excellent bull, I allow ;
but I think I can match it."

Englishman. — " And if he can, you will allow
yourself to be fairly vanquished ? "

Irishman. — " Most willingly."

Scotchman. — " Then I shall owe my victory to
our friend Dr. Johnson, the leviathan of English
literature. In his celebrated preface to Shakspeare
he says, that ' he has not only shown human nature
as it acts in real exigences, but as it would be found
in situations to which it cannot be exposed.' These
are his own words, I think I remember them accu-
rately."

The English gentleman smiled, and our Hibernian
acknowledged that the Scotchman had fairly gained
the victory. " My friends," added he, " as I cannot
pretend to be ' convinced against my will/ I cer-
tainly am not ' of the same opinion still.' But stay
—there are such things as practical bulls : did you
never hear of the Irishman who ordered a painter to

R »

242 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS*

draw his picture, and to represent him standing
behind a tree ? "

Englishman. — " No : but I have heard the very
same story told of an Englishman. The dealers in
good jokes give them first to one nation and then to
another, first to one celebrated character and then to
another, as it suits the demand and fashion of the
day: just as our printsellers, with a few touches,
change the portrait of general Washington into the
head of the king of France, and a capital print of
sir Joshua Reynolds into a striking likeness of the
Monster,

<f But I can give you an instance of a practical
bull that is not only indisputably English, but was
made by one of the greatest men that England ever
produced, Sir Isaac Newton, who, after he had made
a large hole in his study-door for his cat to creep
through, made a small hole beside it for the kitten.
You will acknowledge, sir, that this is a good prac-
tical bull."

cc Pardon me," said the Hibernian, " we have still
some miles further to go, and, if you will give me
leave, I will relate ' an Hibernian tale/ which
exemplifies some of the opinions held in this conver-
sation."

The Scotch and English gentlemen begged to hear
the story, and he began in the following manner.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE IRISH INCOGNITO.

SIR John Bull was a native of Ireland, bred and born
in the city of Cork. His real name was Pheliir.
O'Mooney, and he was by profession a stocak, or
walking gentleman ; that is, a person M'ho is too
proud to earn his bread, and too poor to have bread
without earning it. He had always been told that
none of his ancestors had ever been in trade or busi-
ness of any kind, and he resolved, when a boy, never
to demean himself and family, as. his elder brother
had done, by becoming a rich merchant. When he
grew up to be a young man he kept this spirited
resolution as long as he had a relation or friend in
the world Avho Avould let him hang upon them ; but
when he was shaken off by all, what could he do but
go into business ? He chose the most genteel, how-
ever ; he became a wine merchant. I'm only a \vine
merchant, said he to himself, and that is next door
to being nothing at all. His brother furnished his
cellars; and Mr. Phelim O'Mooney, upon the
strength of the wine that he. had in his cellars, and
of the money he expected to make of it, immediately
married a wife, set up a gig, and gave excellent
dinners to men who were ten times richer than he
even ever expected to be. In return for these excel-
K 2

244 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

lent dinners, his new friends bought all their wine
from Mr. O'Mooney, and never paid for it ; he lived
upon credit himself, and gave all his friends credit,
till he became a bankrupt. Then nobody came to
dine with him, and every body found out that he had
been very imprudent ; and he was obliged to sell his
gig, but not before it had broken his wife's neck ; so
that when accounts came to be finally settled, he was
not much worse than when he began the world, the
loss falling upon his creditors, and he being, as he
observed, free to begin life again, with the advantage
of being once more a bachelor. He was such a
good-natured, free-hearted fellow, that every body
liked him, even his creditors. His wife's relations
made up the sum of five hundred pounds for him,
and his brother offered to take him into his firm as
partner ; but O'Mooney preferred, he said, going to
try, or rather to make, his fortune in England, as he
did not doubt but he should by marriage, being, as
he did not scruple to acknowledge, a personable,
clever-looking man, and a great favourite with the sex.
" My last wife I married for love, my next I expect
will do the same by me, and of course the money
must come on her side this time," said our hero, half
jesting, half in earnest. His elder and wiser brother,
the merchant, whom he still held in more than
sufficient contempt, ventured to hint some slight
objections to this scheme of Phelim's seeking fortune
in England. He observed that so many had gone
upon this plan already, that there was rather a pre-
judice in England against Irish adventurers.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 245

This could not affect him any ways, Phelim re-
plied, because he did not mean to appear in England
as an Irishman at all.

"How then?"

" As an Englishman, since that is most agreeable.'

" How can that be ? "

" Who should hinder it ?"

His brother, hesitatingly, said " Yourself."

" Myself ! — What part of myself? Is it my
tongue ? — You'll acknowledge, brother, that I do
not speak with the brogue."

It was true that Phelim did not speak with any
Irish brogue ; his mother was an English woman,
and he had lived much with English officers in
Cork, and he -had studied and imitated their manner
of speaking so successfully, that no one, merely by
his accent, could have guessed that he was an
Irishman.

te Hey ! brother, I say ! " continued Phelim, in a
triumphant English tone ; " I never was taken for
an Irishman in my life. Colonel Broadman told me
the other day, I spoke English better than the
English themselves ; that he should take me for an
Englishman, in any part of the known world, the
moment I opened my lips. You must allow that not
the smallest particle of brogue is discernible on my
tongue."

His brother allowed that not the smallest particle
of brogue was to be discerned upon Phelim's tongue,
but feared that some Irish idiom might be perceived
in his conversation. And then the name of O'Mooney !

246 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

" O, as to that, I need not trouble an act of par-
liament, or even a king's letter, just to change my
name for a season ; at the worst, I can travel and
appear incognito."

"Always?"

" No : only just till I'm upon good terms with

the lady< Mrs. Phelim O'Mooney, that is to be,

God willing. Never fear, nor shake your head,
brother; you men of business are out of this line,
and not proper judges : I beg your pardon for saying
so, but as you are my own brother, and nobody by,
you'll excuse me."

His brother did excuse him, but continued silent
for some minutes ; he was pondering upon the means
of persuading Phelim to give up this scheme.

" I would lay you any wager, my dear Phelim,"
said he, " that you could not continue four days in
England incognito."

"Done!" cried Phelim. "Done for a hundred
pounds ; done for a thousand pounds, and welcome."

" But if you lose, how will you pay ?"

" Faith ! that's the last thing I thought of, being
sure of winning."

" Then you will not object to any mode of pay-
ment I shall propose."

" None : only remembering always, that I was a
bankrupt last week, and shall be little better till I'm
married ; but then I'll pay you honestly if I lose."

" No, if you lose I must be paid before that time,
my good sir," said his brother, laughing. " My bet
is this: — I will lay you one hundred guineas that

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 247

you do not remain four days in England incognito ;
be upon honour with me, and promise, that if you
lose you will, instead of laying down a hundred
guineas, come back immediately, and settle quietly
again to business."

The word business was always odious to our hero's
proud ears ; but he thought himself so secure of
winning his wager, that he willingly bound himself
in a penalty which he believed would never become
due ; and his generous brother, at parting, made the
bet still more favourable, by allowing that Phelim
should not be deemed the loser unless he was, in
the course of the first four days after he touched
English ground, detected eight times in being an
Irishman.

" Eight times !" cried Phelim. " Good bye to a
hundred guineas, brother, you may say."

" You may say," echoed his brother, and so they
parted.

Mr. Phelim O'Mooney the next morning sailed
from Cork harbour with a prosperous gale, and with
a confidence in his own success which supplied the
place of auspicious omens. He embarked at Cork, to
go by long sea to London, and was driven into Deal,
where Julius Caesar once landed before him, and with
the same resolution to see and conquer. It was early
in the morning ; having been very sea-sick, he was
impatient, as soon as he got into the inn, for his
breakfast : he was shown into a room where three
ladies were waiting to go by the stage ; his air of easy
confidence was the best possible introduction.

248

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

" Would any of the company choose eggs ? " said
the waiter.

" I never touch an egg for my share/' said
O'Mooney, carelessly ; he knew that it was supposed
to be an Irish custom to eat eggs at breakfast ; and
when the malicious waiter afterwards set a plate full
of eggs in salt upon the table, our hero magnani-
mously abstained from them ; he even laughed
heartily at a story told by one of the ladies of an
Hibernian at Buxton, who declared that "no English
hen ever laid a fresh egg."

O'Mooney got through breakfast much to his own
satisfaction, and to that of the ladies, whom he had
taken a proper occasion to call the three graces, and
whom he had informed that he was an old baronet
of an English family, and that his name >vas sir John
Bull. The youngest of the graces civilly observed,
" that whatever else he might be, she should never
have taken him for an old baronet." The lady
who made this speech was pretty, but O'Mooney
had penetration enough to discover, in the course
of the conversation, that she and her companions
were far from being divinities ; his three graces
were a greengrocer's wife, a tallowchandler's widow,
and a milliner. When he found that these ladies
were likely to be his companions if he were to travel
in the coach he changed his plan, and ordered a
postchaise and four.

O'Mooney was not in danger of making any vulgar
Irish blunders in paying his bill at an inn. No land-
lord or waiter could have suspected him, especially

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 249

as he always left them to settle the matter first, and
then looked over the bill and money with a careless
gentility, saying, " Very right," or, " Very well,
sir ; " wisely calculating, that it was better to lose a
few shillings on the road, than to lose a hundred
pounds by the risk of Hibernian miscalculation.

Whilst the chaise was getting ready he went to
the custom-house to look after his baggage. He
found a red-hot countryman of his own there, roaring
about four and fourpence, and fighting the battle of
his trunks, in which he was ready to make affidavit
there was not, nor never had been, any thing contra-
band ; and when the custom-house officer replied by
pulling out of one of them a piece of Irish poplin, the
Hibernian fell immediately upon the Union, which
he swore was Disunion, as the custom-house officers
managed it. Sir John Bull appeared to much ad-
vantage all this time, maintaining a dignified silence ;
from his quiet appearance and deportment, the cus-
tom-house officers took it for granted that he was an
Englishman. He was in no hurry ; he begged that
gentleman's business might be settled first ; he would
wait the officer's leisure, and as he spoke he played
so dexterously with half-a-guinea between his fingers,
as to make it visible only where he wished. The
custom-house officer was his humble servant imme-
diately ; but the Hibernian would have been his
enemy, if he had not conciliated him by observing,
" that even Englishmen must allow there was some-
thing very like a bull in professing to make a com-
plete identification of the two kingdoms, whilst, at

250 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

the same time, certain regulations continued in full
force to divide the countries by art, even more than
the British channel does by nature."

Sir John talked so plausibly, and, above all, so
candidly and coolly on Irish and English politics, that
the custom-house officer conversed with him for a
quarter of an hour without guessing of what country
he was, till in an unlucky moment Phelim's heart
got the better of his head. Joining in the praises
bestowed by all parties on the conduct of a distin-
guished patriot of his country, he, in the height of
his enthusiasm, inadvertently called him the Speaker.

" The Speaker !" said the officer.

" Yes, the Speaker — our Speaker !" cried Phelim,
with exultation. He was not aware how he had be-
trayed himself, till the officer smiled and said —

" Sir, I really never should have found out that
you were an Irishman but from the manner in which
you named your countryman, who is as highly thought
of by all parties in this country as in yours : your
enthusiasm does honour to your heart."

" And to my head, I'm sure," said our hero,
laughing with the best grace imaginable. " Well ! I
am glad you have found me out in thismanner, though
I lose the eighth part of a bet of a hundred guineas
by it."

He explained the wager, and begged the custom-
house officer to keep his secret, which he promised to
do faithfully, and assured him, " that he should be
happy to do any thing in his power to serve him."
Whilst he was uttering these last words, there came

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 251

in a snug, but soft-looking Englishman, who opining
from the words " happy to do any thing in my power
to serve you," that O'Mooney was a friend of the
custom-house officer's, and encouraged by something
affable and good-natured in our hero's countenance,
crept up to him, and whispered a request — "Could
you tell a body, sir, how to get out of the custom-
house a very valuable box of Sevre china that has
been laying in the custom-house three weeks, and
which I was commissioned to get out if I could, and
bring up to town for a lady."

As a lady was in the case, O'Mooney's gallantry
instantly made his good-nature effective. The box
of Sevre china was produced, and opened only as a
matter of form, and only as a matter of curiosity its
contents \rere examined — a beautiful set of Sevre
china and a pendule, said to have belonged to M.
Egalite ! " These things must be intended," said
Phelim, " for some lady of superior taste or fortune."

As Phelim was a proficient in the Socratic art of
putting judicious interrogatories, he was soon happily
master of the principal points it concerned him to
know: he learnt that the lady was rich — a spinster
— of full age — at her own disposal — living with a
single female companion at Blackheath — furnishing
a house there in a superior style — had two carriages
— her Christian name Mary — her surname Sharper-
son.

O'Mooney, by the blessing of God, it shall soon be,
thought Phelim. He politely offered the English-
man a place in his chaise for himself and Sevre china,

252 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

as it was for a lady, and would run great hazard in
the stage, which besides was full. Mr. Queasy, for
that was our soft Englishman's name, was astonished
by our hero's condescension and affability, especially
as he heard him called sir John : he bowed sundry
times as low as the fear of losing his wig would
permit, and accepted the polite offer with many
thanks for himself and the lady concerned.

Sir John Bull's chaise and four was soon ready ;
and Queasy seated in the corner of it, and the Sevre
china safely stowed between his knees. Captain
Murray, a Scotch officer, was standing at the inn
door, with his eyes intently fixed on the letters that
were worked in nails on the top of sir John's trunk ;
the letters were, P. O'M. Our hero, whose eyes
were at least as quick as the Scotchman's, was
alarmed lest this should lead to a second detection.
He called instantly, with his usual presence of mind,
to the ostler, and desired him to uncord that trunk,
as it was not to go with him ; raising his voice
loud enough for all the yard to hear, he added —
<f It is not mine at all ; it belongs to my friend, Mr.
O'Mooney : let it be sent after me, at leisure,
by the waggon, as directed, to the care of sir John
Bull."

Our hero was now giving his invention a pro-
digious quantity of superfluous trouble; and upon
this occasion, as upon mpst others, he was more in
danger from excess than deficiency of ingenuity : he
was like the man in the fairy tale, who was obliged
to tie his legs lest he should outrun the object of

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 253

which he was in pursuit. The Scotch officer, though
his eyes were fixed on the letters P. O'M., had none
of the suspicions which Phelim was counteracting ;
he was only considering how he could ask for the
third place in sir John's chaise during the next stage,
as he was in great haste to get to town upon parti-
cular business, and there were no other horses at the
inn. When he heard that the heavy baggage was to
go by the waggon, he took courage, and made his re-
quest. It was instantly granted by the good-natured
Hibernian, who showed as much hospitality about his
chaise as if it had been his house. Away they drove
as fast as they could. Fresh dangers awaited him
at the next inn. He left his hat upon the table in
the hall whilst he went into the parlour, and when
he returned, he heard some person inquiring what
Irish gentleman was there. Our hero was terribly
alarmed, for he saw that his hat was in the inquirer's
hand, and he recollected that the name of Phelim
O'Mooney was written in it. This the inquisitive
gentleman did not see, for it was written in no very
legible characters on the leather withinside of the
front ; but " F. Guest, hatter, Dame-street, Dublin,"
was a printed advertisement that could not be mis-
taken, and that was pasted within the crown.
O'Mooney's presence of mind did not forsake him
upon this emergency.

" My good sir," said he, turning to Queasy, who,
without hearing one word of what was passing, was
coming out of the parlour, with his own hat and
gloves in his hand ; " My good sir," continued he,

254 ESSAY ON IRISH BULI^S.

loading him with parcels, " will you have the good-
ness to see these put into my carriage ? I'll take care
of your hat and gloves/' added O'Mooney in a low
voice. Queasy surrendered his hat and gloves in-
stantly, unknowing wherefore ; then squeezed forward
with his load through the crowd, crying — " Waiter !
hostler ! pray, somebody put these into sir John Bull's
chaise."

Sir John Bull, equipped with Queasy 's hat,
marched deliberately through the defile, bowing with
the air of at least an English county member to this
side and to that, as way was made for him to his
carriage. No one suspected that the hat did not
belong to him ; no one, indeed, thought of the hat,
for all eyes were fixed upon the man. Seated in the
carriage, he threw money to the waiter, hostler, and
boots, and drew up the glass, bidding the postilions
drive on. By this tool self-possession our hero effected
his retreat with successful generalship, leaving his
new Dublin beaver behind him, without regret, as
bona waviata. Queasy, before whose eyes things
passed continually without his seeing them, thanked
sir John for the care he had taken of his hat, drew
on his gloves, and calculated aloud how long they
should be going to the next stage. At the first town
they passed through, O'Mooney bought a new hat,
and Queasy deplored the unaccountable mistake by
which sir John's hat had been forgotten. No further
mistakes happened upon the journey. The travellers
rattled on, and neither ' stinted nor stayed ' till they
arrived at Blackheath, at miss Sharperson's. Sir

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS, 255

John sat Queasy down without having given him the
least hint of his designs upon the lady ; but as he
helped him out with the Sevre china, he looked
through the large opening double doors of the hall,
and slightly said — " Upon my word, this seems to be
a handsome house : it would be worth looking at, if
the family were not at home."

(< I am morally sure, sir John," said the soft
Queasy, " that miss Sharperson would be happy to
let you see the house to-night, and this minute, if
she knew you were at the door, and who you were,
and all your civility about me and the china. — Do,
pray, walk in."

" Not for the world : a gentleman could not do
such a thing without an invitation from the lady of
the house herself."

" Oh, if that's all, I'll step up myself to the young
lady ; I'm certain she'll be proud "

" Mr. Queasy, by no means ; I would not have the
lady disturbed for the world at this unseasonable
hour. — It is too late — quite too late."

" Not at all, begging pardon, sir John," said
Queasy, taking out his watch : " only just tea-time
by me. — Not at all unseasonable for any body ; be-
sides, the message is of my own head: — all, you know,
if not well taken "

Up the great staircase he made bold to go on his
mission, as he thought, in defiance of sir John's better
judgment. He returned in a few minutes with a
face of self-complacent exultation, and miss Shar-
person's compliments, and begs sir John Bull will

256 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

walk up and rest himself with a dish of tea, and has
her thanks to him for the china.

Now Queasy, who had the highest possible opinion
of sir John Bull and of miss Sharperson, whom he
thought the two people of the greatest consequence
and affability, had formed the notion that they were
made for each other, and that it must be a match if
they could but meet. The meeting he had now
happily contrived and effected ; and he had done his
part for his friend sir John, with miss Sharperson,
by as many exaggerations as he could utter in five
minutes, concerning his perdigious politeness and
courage, his fine person and carriage, his ancient fa-
mily, and vast connections and importance wherever
he appeared on the road, at inns, and over all Eng-
land. He had previously, during the journey, done
his part for his friend miss Sharperson \vith sir John,
by stating that " she had a large fortune left her by
her mother, and was to have twice as much from her
grandmother; that she had thousands upon thousands
in the funds, and an estate of two thousand a year,
called Rascally, in Scotland, besides plate and jewels
without end."

Thus prepared, how could this lady and gentleman
meet without falling desperately in love with each
other !

Though a servant in handsome livery appeared
ready to show sir John up the great staircase, Mr.
Queasy acted as a gentleman usher, or rather as
showman. He nodded to sir John as they passed
across a long gallery and through an ante-chamber,

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 257

threw open the doors of various apartments as he
went along, crying — " Peep in ! peep in ! peep in
toere ! peep in there ! — Is not this spacious ? Is not
this elegant ? Is not that grand ? Did I say too
much ? " continued he, rubbing his hands with delight.
" Did you ever see so magnificent and such highly-
polished steel grates out of Lon'on ? "

Sir John, conscious that the servant's eyes were
upon him, smiled at this question, " looked superior
down ; " and though with reluctant complaisance he
leaned his body to this side or to that, as Queasy
pulled or swayed, yet he appeared totally regardless
of the man's vulgar reflections. He had seen every
thing as he passed, and was surprised at all he saw ;
but he evinced not the slightest symptom of astonish-
ment. He was now ushered into a spacious, well
lighted apartment: he entered with the easy, unem-
barrassed air of a man who was perfectly accustomed
to such a home. His quick coup-d'ceil took in the
whole at a single glance. Two magnificent candelabras
stood on Egyptian tables at the farther end of the
room, and the lights were reflected on all sides from
mirrors of no common size. Nothing seemed worthy
to attract our hero's attention but the lady of the
house, whom he approached with an air of distin-
guished respect. She was reclining on a Turkish
sofa, her companion seated beside her, tuning a
harp. Miss Sharperson half rose to receive sir
John : he paid his compliments with an easy., yet
respectful air. He was thanked for his civilities to

258 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

the person who had been commissioned to bring the
box of Sevre cLina from Deal.

" Vastly sorry it should have been so trouble-
some/' miss Sharperson said, in a voice fashionably
unintelligible, and with a most becoming yet inti-
midating nonchalance of manner. Intimidating it
might have been to any man but our hero ; he, who
had the happy talent of catching, wherever he
went, the reigning manner of the place, replied to
the lady in equal strains ; and she, in her turn,
seemed to look upon him more as her equal. Tea
and coffee were served. Nothings were talked of
quite easily by sir John. He practised the art
" not to admire," so as to give a justly high opinion
of his taste, consequence, and knowledge of the
world. Miss Sharperson, though her nonchalance
was much diminished, continued to maintain a cer-
tain dignified reserve ; whilst her companion, miss
Felicia Flat, condescended to ask sir John, who had
doubtless seen every tine house in England and on
the continent, his opinion with respect to the furni-
ture and finishing of the room, the placing of the
Egyptian tables and the candelabras.

No mortal could have guessed by sir John Bull's
air, when he heard this question, that he had never
seen a candelabra before in his life. He was so
much, and yet seemingly so little upon his guard,
he dealt so dexterously in generals, and evaded par-
ticulars so delicately, that he went through this
dangerous conversation triumphantly. Careful not

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 259

to protract his visit beyond the bounds of propriety,
he soon rose to take leave, and he mingled " intru-
sion, regret, late hour, happiness, and honour," so
charmingly in his parting compliment, as to leave
the most favourable impression on the minds of both
the ladies, and to procure for himself an invitation to
see the house next morning.

The first day was now ended, and our hero had
been detected but once. He went to rest this night
well satisfied with himself, but much more occupied
with the hopes of marrying the heiress of Rascally
than of winning a paltry bet.

The next day he waited upon the ladies in high
spirits. Neither of them was visible, but Mr. Queasy
had orders to show him the house, which he did
with much exultation, dwelling particularly in his
praises on the beautiful high polish of the steel
grates. Queasy boasted that it was he who had re-
commended the ironmonger who furnished the house
in that line ; and that his bill, as he was proud to
state, amounted to many, many hundreds. Sir John,
who did not attend to one word Queasy said, went to
examine the map of the Rascally estate, which was
unrolled, and he had leisure to count the number of
lords' and ladies' visiting tickets which lay upon the
chimney-piece. He saw names of people of the first
quality and respectability : it was plain that Miss
Sharperson must be a lady of high family as well as
large fortune, else she would not be visited by per-
sons of such distinction. Our hero's passion for her
increased every moment. Her companion, miss
s 2

260 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

Flat, now appeared, and entered very freely into
conversation with sir John ; and as he perceived that
she was commissioned to sit in judgment upon him,
he evaded all her leading questions with the skill of
an Irish witness, but without giving any Hibernian
answers. She was fairly at a fault. Miss Sharper-
son at length appeared, elegantly dressed ; her per-
son was genteel, and her face rather pretty. Sir
John, at this instant, thought her beautiful, or
seemed to think so. The ladies interchanged looks,
and afterwards sir John found a softness in his fair
one's manner, a languishing tenderness in her eyes,
in the tone of her voice, and at the same time a
modest perplexity and reserve about her, which alto-
gether persuaded him that he was quite right, and
his brother quite wrong en fait d' amour. Miss Flat
appeared no\v to have the most self-possession of the
three, and miss Sharperson looked at her, from time
to time, as if she asked leave to be in love. Sir
John's visit lasted a full half hour before he was
.sensible of having been five minutes engaged in this
delightful conversation.

Miss Sharperson's coach now came to the door :
he handed her into it, and she gave him a parting
look, which satisfied him all was yet safe in her
heart. Miss Flat, as he handed her into the car-
riage, said, " Perhaps they should meet Sir John at
Tunbridge, where they were going in a few days."
She added some words as she seated herself, M'hich
he scarcely noticed at the time, but they recurred
afterwards disagreeably to his memory. The words

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 261

were, " I'm so glad we've a roomy coach, for of all
things it annoys me to be squeedged in a carriage."
This word squeedged, as he had not been used to
it in Ireland, sounded to him extremely vulgar, and
gave him suspicions of the most painful nature. He
had the precaution, before he left Blackheath, to go
into several shops, and to inquire something more
concerning his fair ladies. All he heard was much
to their advantage ; that is, much to the advantage
of miss Sharperson's fortune. All agreed that she
was a rich Scotch heiress. A rich Scotch heiress,
sir John wisely considered, might have an humble
companion who spoke bad English. He concluded
that squeedged was Scotch, blamed himself for his
suspicions, and was more in love with his mistress
and with himself than ever. As he returned to
town, he framed the outline of a triumphant letter
to his brother on his approaching marriage. The
bet was a matter, at present, totally beneath his
consideration. However, we must do him the jus-
tice to say, that like a man of honour he resolved
that, as soon as he had won the lady's heart, he
would candidly tell her his circumstances, and then
leave her the choice either to marry him or break
her heart, as she pleased. Just as he had formed
this generous resolution, at a sudden turn of the
road he overtook miss Sharperson's coach : he bowed
and looked in as he passed, when, to his astonish-
ment, he saw, squeedged up in the corner by miss
Felicia, Mr. Queasy. He thought that this was a
blunder in etiquette that would never have been

262 JESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

made in Ireland. Perhaps his mistress was of the
same opinion, for she hastily pulled down the blind
as sir John passed. A cold qualm came over the
lover's heart. He lost no time in idle doubts and
suspicions, but galloped on to town as fast as he
could, and went immediately to call upon the Scotch
officer with whom he had travelled, and whom he
knew to be keen and prudent. He recollected the
map of the Rascally estate, which he saw in miss
Sharperson's breakfast-room, and he remembered
that the lands were said to lie in that part of Scot-
land from which captain Murray came ; from him
he resolved to inquire into the state of the premises,
before he should offer himself as tenant for life.
Captain Murray assured him that there was no such
place as Rascally in that part of Scotland ; that he
had never heard of any such person as miss Shar-
person, though he was acquainted with every family
and every estate in the neighbourhood where she
fabled her's to be. O'Mooney drew, from memory,
the map of the Rascally estate. Captain Murray
examined the boundaries, and assured him that his
cousin the general's lands joined his own at the
very spot which he described, and that unless two
straight lines could enclose a space, the Rascally
estate could not be found.

Sir John, naturally of a warm temper, proceeded,
however, with prudence. The Scotch officer admired
his sagacity in detecting this adventurer. Sir John
waited at his hotel for Queasy, who had promised
to call to let him know \vhen the ladies would go

BSSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 263

to Tunbridge. Queasy came. Nothing could equal
his astonishment and dismay when he was told the
news.

" No such place as the Rascally estate ! Then
I'm an undone man ! an undone man ! " cried poor
Queasy, bursting into tears : " but I'm certain it's
impassible ; and you'll find, sir John, you've been
misinformed. I would stake my life upon it, miss
Sharperson's a rich heiress, and has a rich grand-
mother. Why, she's five hundred pounds in my
debt, and I know of her being thousands and thou-
sands in the books of as good men as myself, to
whom I've recommended her, which I wouldn't
have done for my life if I had not known her to be
solid. You'll find she'll prove a rich heiress, sir
John."

Sir John hoped so, but the proofs were not yet
satisfactory. Queasy determined to inquire about
her payments to certain creditors at Blackheath, and
promised to give a decisive answer in the morning.
O'Mooney saw that this man was too great a fool to
be a knave ; his perturbation was evidently the per-
turbation of a dupe, not of an accomplice : Queasy
was made to " be an anvil, not a hammer." In the
midst of his own disappointment, our good-natured
Hibernian really pitied this poor currier.

The next morning sir John went early to Black-
heath. All was confusion at miss Sharperson's
house ; the steps covered with grates and furniture
of all sorts; porters carrying out looking-glasses,
Egyptian tables, and candelabras ; the noise of

-6t>4 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

workmen was heard in every apartment ; and louder
than all the rest, O'Mooney heard the curses that
were denounced against his rich heiress — curses
such as are bestowed on a swindler in the moment of
detection by the tradesmen whom she has ruined.

Our hero, who was of a most happy temper, con-
gratulated himself upon having, by his own wit and
prudence, escaped making the practical bull of mar-
rying a female swindler.

Now that Phelim's immediate hopes of marrying
a rich heiress were over, his bet with his brother
appeared to him of more consequence, and he re-
joiced in the reflection that this was the third day
he had spent in England, and that he had but once
been detected. — The ides of March were come, but
not passed !

" My lads," said he to the workmen who were
busy in carrying out the furniture from miss Shar-
person's house, " all hands are at work, I see, in
saving what they can from the wreck of the Shar-
person. She was as well-fitted out a vessel, and in
as gallant trim, as any ship upon the face of the
earth."

" Ship upon the face of the yearth ! " repeated an
English porter with a sneer ; " ship upon the face
of the water, you should say, master ; but I take it
you be's an Irishman."

. O'Mooney had reason to be particularly vexed at
being detected by this man, who spoke a miserable
jargon, and who seemed not to have a very extensive
range of ideas. He was one of those half-witted

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 265

geniuses who catch at the shadow of an Irish bull.
In fact, Phelim had merely made a lapsus linguae,
and had used an expression justifiable by the au-
thority of the elegant and witty lord Chesterfield,
who said — no, who wrote — that the English navy is
the finest navy upon the face of the earth ! But it
was in vain for our hero to argue the point ; he was
detected — no matter how or by whom. But this was
only his second detection, and three of his four days
of probation were past.

He dined this day at captain Murray's. In the
room in which they dined there was a picture of the
captain, painted by Romney. Sir John, who hap-
pened to be seated opposite to it, observed that it
was a very fine picture ; the more he looked at it
the more he liked it. His admiration was at last
unluckily expressed : he said " that's an incom-
parable, an inimitable picture ; it is absolutely more
like than the original." *

A keen Scotch lady in company smiled, and re-
peated, " More like than the original ! Sir John, if 1
had not been told by my relative here that you were
an Englishman, I should have set you doon, from
that speech, for an Irishman."

This unexpected detection brought the colour, for
a moment, into sir John's face; but immediately re-
covering his presence of mind, he said, " That was,
I acknowledge, an excellent Irish bull ; but in the
course of my travels I have heard as good English
bulls as Irish."

" This bull was really made.

266 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

To this captain Murray politely acceded, and he
produced some laughable instances in support of
the assertion, which gave the conversation a new
turn.

O'Mooney felt extremely obliged to the captain
for this, especially as he saw, by his countenance,
that he also had suspicions of the truth. The first
moment he found himself alone with Murray, our
hero said to him, " Murray, you are too good a
fellow to impose upon, even in jest. Your keen
countrywoman guessed the truth — I am an Irish-
man, but not a swindler. You shall hear why I
conceal my country and name ; only keep my secret
till to-morrow night, or I shall lose a hundred gui-
neas by my frankness."

O'Mooney then explained to him the nature of
his bet. " This is only my third detection, and half
of it voluntary, I might say, if I chose to higgle,
which I scorn to do."

Captain Murray was so much pleased by this
openness, that as he shook hands with O'Mooney, he
said, " Give me leave to tell you, sir, that even if
you should lose your bet by this frank behaviour, you
will have gained a better thing — a friend."

In the evening our hero went with his friend and
a party of gentlemen to Maidenhead, near which
place a battle was to be fought next day, between
two famous pugilists, Bourke and Belcher. At the
appointed time the combatants appeared upon the
stage ; the whole boxing corps and the gentlemen
amateurs crowded to behold the spectacle. Phelim
O'Mooney's heart beat for the Irish champion

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS 267

Bourke ; but he kept a guard upon his tongue, and
had even the forbearance not to bet upon his
countryman's head. How many rounds were fought,
and how many minutes the fight lasted, how many
blows were put in on each side, or which was the
game man of the two, we forbear to decide or relate,
as all this has been settled in the newspapers of the
day ; where also it was remarked, that Bourke, who
lost the battle, " was put into a post-chaise, and left
standing half an hour, while another fight took
place. This was very scandalous on the part of his
friends," says the humane newspaper historian, " as
the poor man might possibly be dying."

Our hero O'Mooney's heart again got the better
of his head. Forgetful of his bet, forgetful of every
thing but humanity, he made his way up to the
chaise, where Bourke was left. " How are you my
gay fellow ? " said he. " Can you see at all with the
eye that's knocked out ? "

The brutal populace, who overheard this question,
set up a roar of laughter : " A bull ! a bull ! an
Irish bull ! Did you hear the question this Irish
gentleman asked his countryman ? "

O'Mooney was detected a fourth time, and this
time he was not ashamed. There was one man in
the crowd who did not join in the laugh : a poor
Irishman, of the name of Terence M'Dermod. He
had in former times gone out a grousing, near Cork,
with our hero ; and the moment he heard his voice,
he sprang forward, and with uncouth but honest de-
monstrations of joy, exclaimed, " Ah, my dear

268 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

master ! my dear young master ! Phelim O'Mooney,
esq. And I have found your honour alive again ?
By the blessing of God above, I'll never part you
now till I die ; and I'll go to the world's end to sarve
yees."

O'Mooney wished him at the world's end this
instant, yet could not prevail upon himself to check
this affectionate follower of the O'Mooneys. He,
however, put half a crown into his hand, and hinted
that if he wished really to serve him, it must be at
some other time. The poor fellow threw down the
money, saying, he would never leave him. " Bid
me do any thing, barring that. No, you shall never
part me. Do what you plase with me, still I'll be
close to your heart, like your own shadow: knock
me down if you will, and wilcome, ten times a day,
and I'll be up again like a ninepin : only let me
sarve your honour ; I'll ask no wages nor take
none."

There was no withstanding all this ; and whether
our hero's good-nature deceived him we shall not
determine, but he thought it most prudent, as he
could not get rid of Terence, to take him into his
service, to let him into his secret, to make him swear
that he would never utter the name of Phelim
O'Mooney during the remainder of this day. Te-
rence heard the secret of the bet with joy, entered
into the jest with all the readiness of an Irishman,
and with equal joy and readiness, swore by the
hind leg of the holy lamb that he would never
mention, even to his own dog, the name of Phelim

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 269

O'Mooney, esq., good or bad, till past twelve o'clock;
and further, that he would, till the clock should
strike that hour, call his master sir John Bull, and
nothing else, to all men, women, and children, upon
the floor of God's creation.

Satisfied with the fulness of this oath, O'Mooney
resolved to return to town with his man Terence
M'Dermod. He, however, contrived, before he got
there, to make a practical bull, by which he was de-
tected a fifth time. He got into the coach which
was driving from London instead of that which was
driving to London, and he would have been carried
rapidly to Oxford, had not his man Terence, after
they had proceeded a mile and a half on the wrong
road, put his head down from the top of the coach,
crying, as he looked in at the window, " Master, sir
John Bull, are you there ? Do you know we're in
the wrong box, going to Oxford ? "

" Your master's an Irishman, dare to say, as well
as yourself," said the coachman, as he let sir John
out. He walked back to Maidenhead, and took a
chaise to town.

It was six o'clock when he got to London, and he
went into a coffee-house to dine. He sat down
beside a gentleman who was reading the newspaper.
" Any news to-day, sir ? "

The gentleman told him the news of the day, and
then began to read aloud some paragraphs in a strong
Hibernian accent. Our hero was sorry that he had
met with another countryman ; but he resolved to set
a guard upon his lips, and he knew that his own
accent could not betray him. The stranger read on

270

till he came to a trial about a legacy which an old
woman had left to her cats. O'Mooney exclaimed,
" I hate cats almost as much as old women ; and if
I had been the English minister, I would have laid
the dog-tax upon cats."

" If you had been the Irish minister, you mean,"
said the stranger, smiling ; " for I perceive now you
are a countryman of my own."

" How can you think so, sir ? " said O'Mooney :
" You have no reason to suppose so from my accent,
I believe."

" None in life^ — quite the contrary ; for you speak
remarkable pure English — not the least note or half
note of the brogue ; but there's another sort of free-
mason sign by which we Hibernians know one another
and are known all over the globe. Whether to call
it a confusion of expressions or of ideas, I can't tell.
Now an Englishman, if he had been saying what
you did, sir, just now, would have taken time to
separate the dog and the tax, and he would have put
the tax upon cats, and let the dogs go about their
business." Our hero, with his usual good-humour,
acknowledged himself to be fairly detected.

" Well, sir," said the stranger, " if I had not
found you out before by the blunder, I should be
sure now you were my countryman by your good-
humour. An Irishman can take what's said to him,
provided no affront's meant, with more good-humour
than any man on earth."

" Ay, that he can," cried O'Mooney : " he lends
himself, like the whale, to be tickled even by the
fellow with the harpoon, till he finds what he is

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

about, and then he pays away, and pitches the fellow,
boat and all, to the devil. Ah, countryman! you
would give me credit indeed for my good humour if
you knew what danger you have put me in by de-
tecting me for an Irishman. I have been found out
six times, and if I blunder twice more before twelve
o'clock this night, I shall lose a hundred guineas by
it : but I will make sure of my bet ; for I will go
home straight this minute, lock myself up in my
room, and not say a word to any mortal till the
watchman cries ' past twelve o'clock,' — then the fast
and long Lent of my tongue will be fairly over ; and
if you'll meet me, my dear friend, at the King's
Arms, we will have a good supper and keep Easter
for ever."

Phelim, pursuant to his resolution, returned to his
hotel, and shut himself up in his room, where he re-
mained in perfect silence and consequent safety till
about nine o'clock. Suddenly he heard a great
huzzaing in the street ; he looked out of the window,
and saw that all the houses in the street were illu-
minated. His landlady came bustling into his
apartment, followed by waiters with candles. His
spirits instantly rose, though he did not clearly knovr
the cause of the rejoicings. " I give you joy,
ma'am. What are you all illuminating for ? " said
he to his landlady.

" Thank you, sir, with all my heart. I am not
sure. It is either for a great victory or the peace.
Bob — waiter — step out and inquire for the gentle-
man."

The gentleman preferred stepping out to inquire

272 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

for himself. The illuminations were in honour of
the peace. He totally forgot his bet, his silence,
and his prudence, in his sympathy with the general
joy. He walked rapidly from street to street, ad-
miring the various elegant devices. A crowd was
standing before the windows of a house that was
illuminated with extraordinary splendour. He in-
quired whose it was, and was informed that it
belonged to a contractor, who had made an immense
fortune by the war.

" Then I'm sure these illuminations of his for the
peace are none of the most sincere," said O'Mooney.
The mob were of his opinion ; and Phelim, who was
now, alas ! Avorked up to the proper pitch for
blundering, added, by way of pleasing his audience
still more — " If this contractor had illuminated in
character, it should have been with dark lanterns."
. " Should it ? by Jasus ! that would be an Irish
illumination," cried some one. " Arrah, honey !
you're an Irishman, whoever you are, and have spoke
your mind in character."

. Sir John Bull was vexed that the piece of wit
which he had aimed at the contractoi had recoiled
upon himself. " It is always, as my countryman
observed, by having too much wit that I blunder.
The deuce take me if I sport a single bon mot more
this night. This is only my seventh detection, I
have an eighth blunder still to the good; and if I can
but keep my wit to myself till I am out of pur-
gatory, then I shall be in heaven, and may sing lo
triumphe in spite of my brother."
• Fortunately, Phelim had not made it any part of

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 273

his bet that he should not speak to himself an Irish
idiom, or that he should not think a bull. Resolved
to be as obstinately silent as a monk of La Trappe,
he once more shut himself up in his cell, and fell fast
asleep — dreamed that fat bulls of Basan encompassed
him round about — that he ran down a steep hill to
escape them — that his foot slipped — he rolled to
the bottom — felt the bull's horns in his side — heard
the bull bellowing in his ears — wakened — and found
Terence M'Dermod bellowing at his room door.

" Sir John Bull ! sir John Bull ! murder ! murder !
my dear master, sir John Bull ! murder, robbery, and
reward ! let me in ! for the love of the holy Virgin !
they are all after you ! "

" Who ? are you drunk, Terence ? " said sir John>
opening the door.

" No, but they are mad — all mad."

"Who?"

" The constable. They are all mad entirely, and
the lord mayor, all along with your honour's making
me swear I would not tell your name. Sure they
are all coming armed in a body to put you in gaol for
a forgery, unless I run back and tell them the truth
— will I?"

" First tell me the truth, blunderer ! "

" I'll make my affidavit I never blundered, plase
your honour, but just went to the merchant's, as you
ordered, with the draught, signed with the name I
swore not to utter till past twelve. I presents the
draught, and waits to be paid. ' Are you Mr.
O'Mooney's servant ? ' says one of the clerks after a

274 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

while. f No, sir, not at all, sir/ said I ; f I'm sir
John Bull's, at your service.' He puzzles and puzzles,
and asks me did I bring the draught, and was that
your writing at the bottom of it ? I still said it was
my master's writing, sir John Bull's, and no other,.
They whispered from one up to t'other, and then
said it was a forgery, as I overheard, and must go
before the mayor. With that, while the master, who
was called down to be examined as to his opinion,
was putting on his glasses to spell it out, I gives
them, one and all, the slip, and whips out of the
street door and home to give your honour notice,
and have been breaking my heart at the door this
half hour to make you hear — and now you have it
all." •

" I am in a worse dilemma now than when between
the horns of the bull," thought sir John : " I must
now either tell my real name, avow myself an Irish-
man, and so lose my bet, or else go to gaol."

He preferred going to gaol. He resolved to pre-
tend to be dumb, and he charged Terence not to
betray him. The officers of justice came to take
him up : sir John resigned himself to them, making
signs that he could not speak. He was carried
before a magistrate. The merchant had never seen
Mr. Phelim O'Mooney, but could swear to his hand-
writing and signature, having many of his letters
and draughts. The draught in question was pro-
duced. Sir John Bull would neither acknowledge
nor deny the signature, but in dumb show made
.signs of innocence. No art or persuasion could

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 275

make him speak; he kept his fingers on his lips.
One of the bailiffs offered to open sir John's mouth.
Sir John clenched his hand, in token that if they
used violence he knew his remedy. To the magis-
trate he was all bows and respect : but the law, in
spite of civility, must take its course.

Terence M'Dermod beat his breast, and called
upon all the saints in the Irish calender when he saw
the committal actually made out, and his dear master
given over to the constables. Nothing but his own
oath and his master's commanding eye, which was
fixed upon him at this instant, could have made him
forbear to utter, what he had never in his life been
before so strongly tempted to tell — the truth.

Determined to win his wager, our hero suffered
himself to be carried to a lock-up house, and per-
sisted in keeping silence till the clock struck twelve !
Then the charm was broken, and he spoke. He
began talking to himself, and singing as loud as he
possibly could. The next morning Terence, who
was no longer bound by his oath to conceal Phelim's
name, hastened to his master's correspondent in
town, told the whole story, and O'Mooney M'as
liberated. Having won his bet by his wit and
steadiness, he had now the prudence to give up these
adventuring schemes, to which he had so nearly
become a dupe ; he returned immediately to Ireland
to his brother, and determined to settle quietly to
business. His good brother paid him the hundred
guineas most joyfully, declaring that he had never
spent a hundred guineas better in his life than in

276 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

recovering a brother. Phelim had now conquered
his foolish dislike to trade : his brother took him
into partnership, and Phelim O'Mooney never re-
lapsed into sir John Bull.

CONCLUSION.

UNABLE any longer to support the tone of irony,
we joyfully speak in our own characters, and ex-
plicitly declare our opinion, that the Irish are an in-
genious, generous people ; that the bulls and blunders
of which they are accused are often imputable to
their neighbours, or that they are justifiable by
ancient precedents, or that they are produced by
their habits of using figurative and witty language.
By what their good -humour is produced we know
not; but that it exists we are certain. In Ireland,
the countenance and heart expand at the approach
of wit and humour : the poorest labourer forgets his
poverty and toil in the pleasure of enjoying a joke.
Amongst all classes of the people, provided no malice
is obviously meant, none is apprehended. That
such is the character of the majority of the nation
there cannot to us be a more convincing and satisfac-
tory proof than the manner in which a late publica-
tion * was received in Ireland. The Irish were the
first to laugh at the caricature of their ancient
foibles, and it was generally taken merely as good-

• Castle Rackrent.

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 277

humoured raillery, not as insulting satire. If grati-
tude for this generosity has now betrayed us un-
awares into the language of panegyric, we may hope
for pardon from the liberal of both nations. Those
who are thoroughly acquainted witli Ireland will
most readily acknowledge the justice of our praises ;
those who are ignorant of the country will not, per-
haps, be displeased to have their knowledge of the
people of Ireland extended. Many foreign pictures
of Irishmen are as grotesque and absurd as the
Chinese pictures of lions : having never seen that
animal, the Chinese can paint him only from the de-
scriptions of voyagers, which are sometimes igno-
rantly, sometimes wantonly exaggerated.

In M. de Voltaire's Age of Lewis the Fourteenth
we find the following passage : — " Some nations
seem made to be subject to others. The English
have always had over the Irish the superiority of
genius, wealth, and arms. The superiority which
Ihe whites have over the negroes" *

A note in a subsequent edition informs us, that
the injurious expression — " The superiority which
the whites have over the negroes," was erased by M.
de Voltaire ; and his editor subjoins his own opinion.
" The nearly savage state in which Ireland was
when she was conquered, her superstition, the op-
pression exercised by the English, the religious

* " II y a des nations don't 1'une semble faite pour etre
soumi.se a 1'autre. 1/es Anglois ont tou jours eu sur les Irlandois
la sup6riorite du genie, des richesses, et des armes. La supt*
rioritc quc les llancs ont sur les noirt,"

278 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

fanaticism which divides the Irish into two hostile
nations, such were the causes which have held down
this people in depression and weakness. Religious
hatreds are appeased, and this country has recovered
her liberty. The Irish no longer yield to the
English, either in industry or in information."*

The last sentence of this note might, if it had
reached the eyes or ears of the incensed Irish
historian, Mr. O'Halloran, have assuaged his wrath
against Voltaire for the unguarded expression in the
text ; unless the amor patriae of the historian, like
the amour propre of some individuals, instead of
being gratified by congratulations on their improve-
ment, should be intent upon demonstrating that
there never was any thing to improve. As we were
neither born nor bred in Ireland, we cannot be sup-
posed to possess this amor patriae in its full force :
we profess to be attached to the country only for its
merits; we acknowledge that it is a matter of in-
difference to us whether the Irish derive their origin
from the Spaniards, or the Milesians, or the Welsh :

* " On lisait dans les premieres Editions, la superiority que
les blancs out sur les negres. M. de Voltaire effafa cette ex-
pression injurieuse. L'etat presque sauvage ou etoit 1'Irlande
lorsqu'elle fut conquise, la superstition, 1'oppression exercee par
les Angolis, le fanatisme religieux qui divise les Irlandois en
deux nations ennemies, telles sont les causes qui ont retenues ce
peuple dans 1'abaissement et dans ibiblesse. Les haines re-
ligieuses se sont assoupies, et elle a repris sa liberte. Les Irlan-
dois ne le cedent pint aux Anglois^ ni en Industrie ni en fumi-
era."

ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. 279

we are not so violently anxious as we ought to be to
determine whether or not the language spoken by
the Phoenician slave, in Terence's play, was Irish ;
nay, we should not break our hearts if it could never
be satisfactorily proved that Albion is only another
name for Ireland.* We moreover candidly confess
that we are more interested in the fate of the present
race of its inhabitants than in the historian of St.
Patrick, St. Facharis, St. Cormuc ; the renowned
Brien Boru; Tireldach, king of Connaught; M'Mur-
rough, king of Leinster ; Diarmod ; Righ-Damnha ;
Labra-Loing-seach ; Tighermas; Ollamh-Foldha ;
the M'Giolla-Phadraigs ; or even the great William
of Ogham ; and by this declaration we have no fear
of giving offence to any but rusty antiquaries. We
think it somewhat more to the honour of Ireland to
enumerate the names of some of the men of genius
whom she has produced : Milton and Shakspeare
stand unrivalled; but Ireland can boast of Usher,
Boyle, Denham, Congreve, Molyneux, Farquhar, sir
Richard Steele, Bickerstaff, sir Hans Sloane, Berke-
ley, Orrery, Parnel, Swift, T. Sheridan, Welsham,
Bryan Robinson, Goldsmith, Sterne, Johnson,t
Tickel, Brooke, Zeland, Hussey Burgh, three Ha-
miltons, Young, Charlemont, Macklin, Murphy,
Mrs. Sheridan,}: Francis Sheridan, Kirwan, Brinsley
Sheridan, and Burke.

" See O'Halloran's History of Ireland.

•f Author of Chrysal, or Adventurers of a Guinea.

;£ Author of the beautiful moral tale Nourjahad.

280 ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS.

We enter into no invidious comparisons : it is our
sincere wish to conciliate both countries ; and if in
this slight essay we should succeed in diffusing a
more just and enlarged idea of the Irish than has
been generally entertained, we hope the English will
deem it not an unacceptable service. Whatever
might have been the policy of the English nation
towards Ireland whilst she was a separate kingdom,
since the union it can no longer be her wish to
depreciate the talents or ridicule the language of
Hibernians. One of the Czars of Russia used to
take the cap and bells from his fool, and place it on
the head of any of his subjects whom he wished to
disgrace. The idea of extending such a punish-
ment to a whole nation was ingenious and magnani-
mous ; but England cannot now put it into execu-
tion towards Ireland. Would it not be a practical
bull to place the bells upon her own imperial head ?

1801.

APPENDIX.

The following collection of Foreign Bulls was
given us by a man of letters, who is now father of
the French Academy.

RECUEIL DE BETISES.

TOUTES les nations ont des contes plaisans de betises
echappees non seulement a des personnes vraiment
betes, mais aux distractions de gens qui ne sont pas
sans esprit. Les Italiens ont leurs sproposili, leur
arlequin ses balourdises, les Anglois leurs blunders,
les Irlandois leurs bulls.

Mademoiselle Maria Edgeworth ayant fait un
recueil de ces derniers, je prends la liberte de lui
offrir un petit recueil de nos betises qui meritent le
nom qu'elles portent aussi bien que les Irish bulls.
J'ai fait autrefois une dissertation ou je recherchois
quelle etoit la cause du rire qu'excitent les betises,
et dans laquelle j'appuyois mon explication de beau-
coup d'exemples et peut-etre ineme du mien sans
m'en appercevoir ; mais la femme d'esprit a qui j'ai
adresse cette folie 1'a perdue, et je n'ai pas pu la
recouvrer.

Je me souviens seulement que j'y prouvois savam-
menl que le rire excite par les betises est 1'effet du
contraste que nous saisissons entre 1'effort que fait
1'homme qui dit la betise, et le mauvais succes de son
effort. J'assimilois la marche de 1'esprit dans celui
qui dit une betise, a ce qui arrive a un homme qui
cherchant a marcher legerement sur un pave glissant,

284

APPENDIX.

tombe lourdement, ou aux tours mal-adroit du pail-
lasse de la foire. Si 1'on veut examiner les betises
rassemblees ici, on y trouvera toujours un effort
manque de ce genre.

Un homme, dont la femme avoit ete saignee, in-
terroge le lendemain pourquoi elle ne paroissoit pas
a table, repondit : — Elle garde la chambre : Morand
1'a saignee hier, et une saignee afFoiblit beaucoup
quand elle est faite par un habile homme.

M. de Baville, intendant de Languedoc, avoit un
secretaire fort bete : il se servoit un jour de lui pour
ecrire au rainistre sur des aifaires tres importantes et
dicta ces mots : " Ne soyez point surpris de ce que
je me sers d'une main etrangere pour vous ecrire
sur cet objet. Mon secretaire est si bete qu'a ce
moment meme il ne s'apper^oit pas que je vous parle
de lui."

On demandoit a un abbe de Laval Montmoreney
qtiel age avoit son frere le marechal dont il etoit
1'aine. " Dans deux ans," dit-il, " nous serons du
meme age."

On se preparoit a observer une eclipse, et le roi
devoit assister a 1'observation. M. de Jonville disoit
a M. Cassini — " N'attendra-t-on pas le roi pour
commencer 1'eclipse ?"

Une femme du peuple qui avoit une petite fille
malade avec le transport au cerveau, disoit au me-
decin, " Ah, monsieur, si vous 1'aviez entendu cette
nuit elle a deraisonnee comme une grande per-
sonne."

Un homme avoit parie 25 louis qu'il traverseroit le

APPENDIX. 285

grand bassin des Thuileries par un froid tres rigou-
reux ; il alia jusqu'au milieu, renon9a a son entre-
prise, et revint par le meme chemin en disant,
" J'aime mieux perdre vingt-cinq louis que d'avoir
une fluxion de poitrine."

Un homtne voyoit venir de loin un medecin de sa
connoissance qui 1'avoit traite plusieurs annees aupa-
ravant dans une maladie ; il se detourna, et caclia
son visage pour n'etre pas reconnu. On lui deman-
doit " Pourquoi." — " C'est," dit-il, " que je suis
honteux devant lui de ce qu'il y a fort long terns que
je n'ai ete nialade."

On demande a un homme qui vouloit vendre un
cheval, " Votre cheval est-il peureux ? " " Oh,
point du tout," repond-il ; " il vient de passer plu-
sieurs nuits tout seul dans son ecurie."

Dans une querelle entre un pere et son fils, le pere
reprochoit a celui-ci son ingratitude. "Je ne vous
ai point d'obligations," disoit le fils ; " vous m'avez
fait beaucoup de tort ; si vous n'etiez point ne, je
serois a present l'h eri tier de mon grand pere."

Un avare faisant son testament, se fit lui-meme
son heritier.

Un homme voyoit un bateau si charge que les
bords en etoient a fleur d'eau : " Ma foi," dit-il, " si
la riviere etoit un pen plus haute le bateau iroit a
fond."

M. Hume, dans son histoire d'Angleterre, parlant
de la conspiration attribuee aux Catholiques en 167^
sous Charles II. rapporte le mot d'un chevalier
Player qui felicitoit la ville des precautions qu'elle

286 APPENDIX.

avoit prises — " Et sans lesquelles," disoit-il, " tous
les citoyens auroient couru risque de se trouver
egorges le lendemain a leur reveil."

Le maire d'une petite ville, entendant une que-
relle dans la rue au milieu de la nuit, se leve du lit,
et ouvrant la fenetre, crie aux passans, " Messieurs,
me leverai-je ? "

Un sot faisoit compliment a une demoiselle dont
la mere venoit de se marier en secondes noces avec
un ancien ami de la maison — " Mademoiselle," lui
dit-il, " je suis ravi de ce que monsieur votre pere
vient d'epouser madame votre mere."

Racine, qui avoit ete toute sa vie courtisan tres
attentif, etoit enterre a Port Royal des Champs dont
les solitaires s'etoient attires 1'indignation de Louis
XIV. M. de Boissy, celebre par ses distractions,
disoit, " Racine n'auroit pas fait cela de son vivant."

On racontait dans une conversation que monsieur
de Buffon avoit disseque une de ses cousines, et une
femme se recrioit sur 1'inhumanite de 1'anatomiste.
M. de Mairan lui dit, " Mais, tnadame, elle etoit
morte."

On parloit avec admiration de la belle vieillesse
d'un homme de quatre vingt dix ans, quelqu'un
dit — " Cela vous etonne, messieurs ; si mon pere
n'etoit pas mort, il auroit a present cent ans ac-
complis."

Mouet, de 1'opera comique, conte qu'arrivant de
Lyon, et ne voulant pas qu'on sut qu'il etoit a Paris,
il recommanda a son laquais, suppose qu'il fut ren-
contre, de dire qu'il etoit a Lyon. Le laquais trouve

APPENDIX. 287

nn ami de son maitre, qui lui en demande des nou-
velles. " II est a Lyon," dit-il, " et il ne sera de
retour que la semaine prochaine." " Mais," con-
tinue le questionneur, " que portez vous la ? " " Ce
sont quelques provisions qu'il m'a envtiye chercher
pour son diner."

Un homme examinoit un dessin representant la
coupe d'un vaisseau construit en Hollande ; quel-
qu'un lui dit, " Est-ce que monsieur entend le
Hollandois."

Un homme de loi disoit qu'on ne pouvait pas faire
une stipulation valable avec un muet. Un des ecou-
tans lui dit, " Monsieur le docteur, et avec un
boiteux, seroit-elle bonne ? "

Un homme se plaignoit que le maison de son voison
lui otoit la vue d'une de ses fenetres j un autre lui
dit, " Vous avez un remede ; faites murer cette
fenetre."

Un homme ayant ecrit a sa maitresse, avoit glisse
le billet sous la porte, et puis s'avisant que la fille
ne pourroit pas s'en appercevoir il en ecrivit un autre
en ces termes, " J'ai mis un billet sous votre porte ;
prenez-y garde quand vous sortirez."

Un homme etant sur le point de marier sa fille
unique, se brouille avec le pretendant, et dans sa
colere il dit, " Non, monsieur, vous ne serez jamais
mon gendre, et quand j'aurois cent filles uniques, je
ne vous en donnerois pas une."

On avoit re9U a la grande poste un lettre avec
cette adresse, a Monsieur mon Jils, Rue, $c. On
alloit la mettre au rebut ; un commis s'y oppose, et

288 APPENDIX.

dit qu'on trouvera a qui la lettre s'adresse. Dix ou
douze jours se passent. On voit arriver un grand
benet, qui dit, "Messieurs, je viens savoir si on
n'auroit pas garde ici une lettre de mon cher pere ? "
" Oui, monsieur," luid it le commis, " la voila." On
prete ce trait a Bouret, fermier general.

Milord Albemarle etant aux eaux d'Aix-la-Cha-
pelle, et ne voulant pas etre connu, ordonna a uu
negre qui le servoit, si on lui deraandoit qui etoit son
maitre, de dire qu'il etoit Fra^ois. On ne manqua
pas de faire la question au noir, qui repondit, " Mon
maitre est Francois, et mot aussi."

Un marchand, en finissant d'ecrire une lettre a un
de ses correspondans, inourut subitement. Son com-
mis ajouta en P. S. " Depuis ma lettre ecrite je suis
mort ce matin. Mardi au soir ^eme," &c.

Un petit marchand pretendoit avoir achete trois
sols ce qu'il vendoit pour deux. On lui represente
que ce commerce le ruinera — "Ah," dit-il, " je me
sauve sur la quantite."

Le chevalier de Lorenzi, etant a Florence, etoit
alle se promener avec trois de ses amis a quelques
lieues de la ville, a pied. Us revenoient fort las ; la
nuit approchoit ; il veut se reposer : on lui dit qu'il
restoit quatres milles a faire — " Oh," dit-il, " nous
sommes quatres ; ce n'est qu'un mille chacun."

On pretend qu'un fermier general voulant s'eviter
1'ennui ou s'epargner les frais des lettres dont on
1'accabloit au nouvel an, ecrivoit au mois de Decem-
bre a tous les employes de son departement qu'il les
dispensoit du ceremonial, et que ceux-ci lui repon-

APPENDIX. 289

deroient pour 1'assurer qu'ils se conformeroient £ ses
ordres.

Maupertuis faisoit instruire un perroquet par son
laquais, et vouloit qu'on lui apprit des mots extraor-
dinaires. Depuis deux ans le laquais, enseignoit a
1'animal a dire monomotapa, et le perroquet n'en disoit
que des syllabes separees. Maupertuis faisoit des
reproches au laquais ; " Oh, monsieur/' dit celui-ci,
" cela ne vas pas si vite ; je lui ai d'abord appris mo
et puis no." " Vous etes un bete," dit Maupertuis,
" il faut lui dire le mot en tier." " Monsieur," re-
prend le laquais, "il faut lui donner le temps de
comprendre."

II y a en Italien une lettre pleine de sproposifi
assez plaisans. Un homme ecrit a son ami, "Ab-
biamo avuto un famosissimo tremmoto che se per la
misericordia de Dio avesse durato una mezza hora di
piu, saremmo tutti andati al paradiso che Dio ce ne
liberi. Vi mando quatordici peri e sono tutti boni
christiani. A questa fiera i porci sono saliti al
cielo. O ricevete, o non ricevete questa, datemene
aviso."

AW

ESSAY

OK THE

NOBLE SCIENCE OF SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

" For which an eloquence that aims to vex,

With native tropes of anger arms the sex." — Parnell.

ENDOWED as the fair sex indisputably are, with a
natural genius for the invaluable art of self-justifica-
tion, it may not be displeasing to them to see its
rising perfection evinced by an attempt to reduce it
to a science. Possessed, as are all the fair daughters
of Eve, of an hereditary propensity, transmitted to
them undiminished through succeeding generations,
to be " soon moved with slightest touch of blame ; "
very little precept and practice will confirm them in
the habit, and instruct them in all the maxims, of
self-j ustification.

Candid pupil, you will readily accede to my first
and fundamental axiom — that a lady can do no
wrong.

But simple as this maxim may appear, and suited
to the level of the meanest capacity, the talent of
applying it on all the important, but more especially
on all the most trivial, occurrences of domestic life,
so as to secure private peace and public dominion,
has hitherto been monopolized by the female adepts
in the art of self-justification.
u2

292 ESSAY ON SELF- JUSTIFICATION.

Excuse me for insinuating by this expression, that
there may yet be amongst you some novices. To
these, if any such, I principally address myself.

And now, lest fired with ambition you lose all by
aiming at too much, let me explain and limit my
first principle, " That you can do no wrong." You
must be aware that real perfection is beyond the
reach of mortals, nor would I have you aim at it ;
indeed it is not in any degree necessary to our
purpose. You have heard of the established belief
in the infallibility of the sovereign pontiff, which
prevailed not many centuries ago : — if man was
allowed to be infallible, I see no reason why the
same privilege should not be extended to woman ; —
but times have changed ; and since the happy age
of credulity is past, leave the opinions of men to
their natural perversity — their actions are the best
test of their faith. Instead then of a belief in
your infallibility, endeavour to enforce implicit sub-
mission to your authority. This will give you in-
finitely less trouble, and will answer your purpose as
well.

Right and wrong, if we go to the foundation of
things, are, as casuists tell us, really words of very
dubious signification, perpetually varying with cus-
tom and fashion, and to be adjusted ultimately by no
other standards but opinion and force. Obtain power,
then, by all means ; power is the law of man ; make
it yours.

But to return from a frivolous disquisition about
right, let me teach you the art of defending the

ESSAY ON SELF- JUSTIFICATION. 293

wrong. After having thus pointed out to you the
glorious end of your labours, I must now instruct
you ia the equally glorious means.

For the advantage of my subject I address myself
chiefly to married ladies ; but those who have not as
yet the good fortune to have that common enemy, a
husband, to combat, may in the mean time practise
my precepts upon their fathers, brothers, and female
friends ; with caution, however, lest by discovering
their arms too soon, they preclude themselves from
the power of using them to the fullest advantage
hereafter. I therefore recommend it to them to
prefer, with a philosophical moderation, the future
to the present.

Timid brides, you have, probably, hitherto been
addressed as angels. Prepare for the time when
you shall again become mortal. Take the alarm at
the first approach of blame ; at the first hint of a
discovery that you are any thing less than infallible :
— contradict, debate, justify, recriminate, rage,
weep, swoon, do any thing but yield to conviction.

I take it for granted that you have already ac-
quired sufficient command of voice ; you need not
study its compass ; going beyond its pitch has a
peculiarly happy effect upon some occasions. But
are you voluble enough to drown all sense in a torrent
of words? Can you be loud enough to overpower
the voice of all who shall attempt to interrupt or
contradict you ? Are you mistress of the petulant,
the peevish, and the sullen tone ? Have you prac-
tised the sharpness which provokes retort, and the

294 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

continual monotony which by setting your adversary
to sleep effectually precludes reply ? an event which
is always to be considered as decisive of the victory,
or at least as reducing it to a drawn battle : — you
and Somnus divide the prize.

Thus prepared for an engagement, you will next,
if you have not already done it, study the weak part
of the character of your enemy — your husband, I
mean : if he be a man of high spirit, jealous of com-
mand and impatient of control, one who decides for
himself, and who is little troubled with the insanity
of minding what the world says of him, you must
proceed with extreme circumspection ; you must not
dare to provoke the combined forces of the enemy to
a regular engagement, but harass him with perpetual
petty skirmishes : in these, though you gain little at
a time, you will gradually weary the patience, and
break the spirit of your opponent. If he be a man of
spirit, he must also be generous ; and what man of
generosity will contend for trifles with a woman who
submits to him in all affairs of consequence, who is
in his power, who is weak, and who loves him ?

" Can superior with inferior power contend ? "
No ; the spirit of a lion is not to be roused by the
teasing of an insect.

But such a man as I have described, besides being
as generous as he is brave, will probably be of an
active temper : then you have an inestimable advan-
tage ; for he will set a high value upon a thing for
which you have none — time ; he will acknowledge
the force of your arguments merely from a dread of

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 295

their length ; he will yield to you in trifles, parti-
cularly in trifles which do not militate against his
authority; not out of regard for you, but for his
time ; for what man can prevail upon himself to
debate three hours about what could be as well
decided in three minutes ?

Lest amongst infinite variety the difficulty of im-
mediate selection should at first perplex you, let me
point out that matters of taste will afford you, of
all others, the most ample and incessant subjects of
debate. Here you have no criterion to appeal to.
Upon the same principle, next to matters of taste,
points of opinion will afford the most constant ex-
ercise to your talents. Here you will have an oppor-
tunity of citing the opinions of all the living and dead
you have ever known, besides the dear privilege of
repeating continually : — "Nay, you must allow that."
Or, " You can't deny Mi*, for it's the universal opinion
— every body says so ! every body thinks so ! I wonder
to hear you express such an opinion ! Nobody but
yourself is of that way of thinking ! " with innumer-
able other phrases, with which a slight attention to
polite conversation will furnish you. This mode of
opposing authority to argument, and assertion to
proof, is of such universal utility, that I pray you to
practise it.

If the point in dispute be some opinion relative to
your character or disposition, allow in general, that
" you are sure you have a great many faults;" but
to every specific charge, reply, " Well, I am sure I
don't know, but I did not think that was one of my

296 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

faults ! nobody ever accused me of that before ! Nay,
I was always remarkable for the contrary ; at least
before I was acquainted with you, sir : in my own
family I was always remarkable for the contrary;
ask any of my own friends ; ask any of them ; they
must know me best."

But if, instead of attacking the material parts of
your character, your husband should merely presume
to advert to your manners, to some slight personal
habit which might be made more agreeable to him ;
prove, in the first place, that it is his fault that it is
not agreeable to him ; ask which is most to blame,
" she who ceases to please, or he who ceases to be
pleased" * — His eyes are changed, or opened. But
it may perhaps have been a matter almost of indif-
ference to him, till you undertook its defence : then
make it of consequence by rising in eagerness, in
proportion to the insignificance of your object ; if he
can draw consequences, this will be an excellent
lesson : if you are so tender of blame in the veriest
trifles, how unimpeachable must you be in matters of
importance. As to personal habits, begin by denying
that you have any ; or in the paradoxical language of
Rousseau t declare that the only habit you have is
the habit of having none : as all personal habits, if
they have been of any long standing, must have
become involuntary, the unconscious culprit may
assert her innocence without hazarding her veracity.

However, if you happen to be detected in the

* Marmontel. -j- Emilius and Sophia.

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 297

very fact, and a person cries, " Now, now, you are
doing it !" submit, but declare at the same moment —
" That it is the very first time in your whole life
that you were ever known to be guilty of it ; and
therefore it can be no habit, and of course nowise
reprehensible."

Extend the rage for vindication to all the objects
which the most remotely concern you ; take even in-
animate objects under your protection. Your dress,
your furniture, your property, every thing which is
or has been yours defend, and this upon the prin-
ciples of the soundest philosophy; each of these things
all compose a part of your personal merit ; * all that
connected the most distantly with your idea gives
pleasure or pain to others, becomes an object of blame
or praise, and consequently claims your support or
vindication.

In the course of the management of your house,
children, family, and affairs, probably some few errors
of omission or commission may strike your husband's
pervading eye ,• but these errors, admitting them to
be errors, you will never, if you please, allow to be
charged to any deficiency in memory, judgment, or
activity, on your part.

There are surely people enough around you to
divide and share the blame; send it from one to
another, till at last, by universal rejection, it is
proved to belong to nobody. You will say, however,
that facts remain unalterable ; and that in some un-

* Vide Hume.

298 ESSAY ON SELF- JUSTIFICATION.

lucky instance, in the changes and chances of human
affairs, you may be proved to have been to blame.
Some stubborn evidence may appear against you ;
still you may prove an alibi, or balance the evidence.
There is nothing equal to balancing evidence ; doubt
is, you know, the most philosophic state of the human
mind, and it will be kind of you to keep your hus-
band perpetually in this sceptical state.

Indeed the short method of denying absolutely all
blameable facts, I should recommend to pupils as the
best; and if in the beginning of their career they
may startle at this mode, let them depend upon it
that in their future practice it must become perfectly
familiar. The nice distinction of simulation and dis-
simulation depends but on the trick of a syllable;
palliation and extenuation are universally allowable
in self-defence ; prevarication inevitably follows, and
falsehood " is but in the next degree."

Yet I would not destroy this nicety of conscience
too soon. It may be of use in your first setting out,
because you must establish credit ; in proportion to
your credit will be the value of your future assevera-
tions.

In the mean time, however, argument and debate
are allowed to the most rigid moralist. You can never
perjure yourself by swearing to a false opinion.

I come now to the art of reasoning: don't be
alarmed at the name of reasoning, fair pupils ; I will
explain to you my meaning.

If, instead of the fiery-tempered being I formerly
described, you should fortunately be connected with

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 299

a man, who, having formed a justly high opinion of
your sex, should propose to treat you as his equal,
and who in any little dispute which might arise
between you should desire no other arbiter than
reason ; triumph in his mistaken candour, regularly
appeal to the decision of reason at the beginning of
every contest, and deny its jurisdiction at the con-
clusion. I take it for granted that you will be on the
wrong side of every question, and indeed, in general,
I advise you to choose the wrong side of an argument
to defend ; whilst you are young in the science, it
will afford the best exercise, and, as you improve, the
best display of your talents.

If, then, reasonable pupils, you would succeed in
argument, attend to the following instructions.

Begin by preventing, if possible, the specific state-
ment of any position, or, if reduced to it, use the
most general terms, and take advantage of the ambi-
guity which all languages and which most philoso-
phers allow. Above all things, shun definitions ;
they will prove fatal to you ; for two persons of sense
and candour, who define their terms, cannot argue
long without either convincing, or being convinced,
or parting in equal good-humour ; to prevent which,
go over and over the same ground, wander as wide
as possible from the point, but always with a view to
return at last precisely to the same spot from which
you set out. I should remark to you, that the choice
of your weapons is a circumstance much to be at-
tended to: choose always those which your adversary
cannot use. If your husband is a man of wit, you

300 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

will of course undervalue a talent which is never con-
nected with judgment : " for your part, you do not
presume to contend with him in wit."

But if he be a sober-minded man, who will go link
by link along the chain of an argument, follow him
at first, till he grows so intent that he does not per-
ceive whether you follow him or not ; then slide back
to your own station, and when with perverse patience
he has at last reached the last link of the chain, with
one electric shock of wit make him quit his hold,
and strike him to the ground in an instant. Depend
upon the sympathy of the spectators, for to one who
can understand reason, you will find ten who admire
wit.

But if you should not be blessed with " a ready
wit," if demonstration should in the mean time stare
you in the face, do not be in the least alarmed — an-
ticipate the blow. Whilst you have it yet in your
power, rise with becoming magnanimity, and cry, " I
give it up ! I give it up ! La! let us say no more
about it ; I do so hate disputing about trifles. I give
it up ! " Before an explanation on the word trifle
can take place, quit the room with flying colours.

If you are a woman of sentiment and eloquence,
you have advantages of which I scarcely need apprise
you. From the understanding of a man, you have
always an appeal to his heart, or, if not, to his affec-
tion, to his weakness. If you have the good fortune
to be married to a weak man, always choose the mo-
ment to argue with him when you have a full audi-
ence. Trust to the sublime power of numbers; it

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 301

will be of use even to excite your own enthusiasm in
debate ; then as the scene advances, talk of his
cruelty, and your sensibility, and sink with " be-
coming woe " into the pathos of injured innocence.

Besides the heart and the weakness of your op-
ponent, you have still another chance, in ruffling his
temper ; which, in the course of a long conversation,
you will have a fair opportunity of trying ; and if —
for philosophers will sometimes grow warm in the
defence of truth — if he should grow absolutely angry,
you will in the same proportion grow calm, and
wonder at his rage, though you well know it has been
created by your own provocation. The by-standers,
seeing anger without any adequate cause, will all be
of your side.

Nothing provokes an irascible man, interested in
debate, and possessed of an opinion of his own elo-
quence, so much as to see the attention of his hearers
go from him : you will then, when he flatters himself
that he has just fixed your eye with his very best
augument, suddenly grow absent : — your house affairs
must call you hence — or you have directions to give
to your children — or the room is too hot, or too cold
— the window must be opened — or door shut — or the
candle wants snuffing. Nay, without these inter-
ruptions, the simple motion of your eye may provoke
a speaker ; a butterfly, or the figure in a carpet may
engage your attention in preference to him ; or if
these objects be absent, the simply averting your eye,
looking through the window in quest of outward
objects, will show that your mind has not been

302 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

abstracted, and will display to him at least your wish
of not attending. He may, however, possibly have
lost the habit of watching your eye for approbation ;
then you may assault his ear : if all other resources
fail, beat with your foot that dead march of the
spirits, that incessant tattoo, which so well deserves
its name. Marvellous must be the patience of the
much-enduring man whom some or other of these
devices do not provoke : slight causes often produce
great effects ; the simple scratching of a pick-axe,
properly applied to certain veins in a mine, will
cause the most dreadful explosions.

Hitherto we have only professed to teach the de-
fensive ; let me now recommend to you the offensive
part of the art of justification. As a supplement
to reasoning comes recrimination : the pleasure of
proving that you are right is surely incomplete till
you have proved that your adversary is wrong ; this
might have been a secondary, let it now become a
primary object with you ; rest your own defence on
it for farther security: you are no longer to consider
yourself as obliged either to deny, palliate, argue, or
declaim, but simply to justify yourself by criminating
another; all merit, you know, is judged of by com-
parison. In the art of recrimination, your memory
will be of the highest service to you; for you are to
open and keep an aqcount-current of all the faults,
mistakes, neglects, unkindnesses of those you live
with ; these you are to state against your own : I
need not tell you that the balance will always be in
your favour. In stating matters of opinion, produce

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 303

the words of the very same person which passed
days, months, years before, in contradiction to what
he is then saying. By displacing, disjointing words
and sentences, by misunderstanding the whole, or
quoting only a part of what has been said, you may
convict any man of inconsistency, particularly if he
be a man of genius and feeling; for he speaks ge-
nerally from the impulse of the moment, and of all
others can the least bear to be charged with para-
doxes. So far for a husband.

Recriminating is also of sovereign use in the
quarrels of friends ; no friend is so perfectly equable,
so ardent in affection, so nice in punctilio, as never
to offend: then "Note his faults, and con them all
by rote." Say you can forgive, but you can never
forget ; and surely it is much more generous to
forgive and remember than to forgive and forget.
On every new alarm, call the unburied ghosts from
former fields of battle ; range them in tremendous
array, call them one by one to witness against the
conscience of your enemy, and ere the battle is
begun take from him all courage to engage.

There is one case I must observe to you in which
recrimination has peculiar poignancy. If you have
had it in your power to confer obligations on any
one, never cease reminding them of it : and let them
feel that you have acquired an indefeasible right to
reproach them without a possibility of their retorting.
It is a maxim with some sentimental people, " To
treat their servants as if they were their friends in
distress." — I have observed that people of this cast

304 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

make themselves amends, by treating their friends in
distress as if they were their servants.

Apply this maxim — you may do it a thousand
ways, especially in company. In general conver-
sation, where every one is supposed to be on a foot-
ing, if any of your humble companions should
presume to hazard an opinion contrary to yours, and
should modestly begin with, " 1 think ;" look as the
man did when he said to his servant, " You think,
sir — what business have you to think ? "

Never fear to lose a friend by the habits which I
recommend: reconciliations, as you have often heard
it said — reconciliations, are the cement of friendship ;
therefore friends should quarrel to strengthen their
attachment, and offend each other for the pleasure of
being reconciled.

I beg pardon for disgressing : I \vas, I believe,
talking of your husband, not of your friend — I have
gone far out of the way.

If in your debates with your husband you should
want " eloquence to vex him," the dull prolixity of
narration, joined to the complaining monotony of
voice which I formerly recommended, will supply its
place, and have the desired effect : Somnus will
prove propitious ; then, ever and anon as the soporific
charm begins to work, rouse him with interroga-
tories, such as " Did not you say so ? Don't you
remember ? Only answer me that ! "

By-the-bye, interrogatories artfully put may lead
an unsuspicious reasoner, you know, always to your
own conclusion.

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 305

In addition to the patience, philosophy, and other
good things which Socrates learned from his M'ife
perhaps she taught him this mode of reasoning.

But, after all, the precepts of art and even the
natural susceptibility of your tempers will avail you
little in the sublime of our science if you cannot
command that ready enthusiasm which will make
you enter into the part you are acting ; that happy
imagination which shall make you believe all you
fear and all you invent.

Who is there amongst you who cannot or who will
not justify when they are accused ? Vulgar talent !
the sublime of our science is to justify before we are
accused. There is no reptile so vile but what will
turn when it is trodden on ; but of a nicer sense and
nobler species are those whom nature has endowed
with antennae, which perceive and withdraw at the
distant approach of danger. Allow me another al-
lusion : similes cannot be crowded too close for a
female taste ; and analogy, I have heard, my fair
pupils, is your favourite mode of reasoning.

The sensitive plant is too vulgar an allusion ; but
if the truth of modern naturalists may be depended
upon, there is a plant which, instead of receding
timidly from the intrusive touch, angrily protrudes
its venomous juices upon all who presume to meddle
with it : — do not you think this plant would be your
fittest emblem ?

Let me, however, recommend it to you, nice souls,
who, of the mimosa kind, " fear the dark cloud, and
feel the coming storm," to take the utmost precau-
x i

306 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

tion lest the same susceptibility which you cherish as
the dear means to torment others should insensibly
become a torment to yourselves.

Distinguish then between sensibility and suscepti-
bility ; between the anxious solicitude not to give
offence, and the captious eagerness of vanity to prove
that it ought not to have been taken; distinguish
between the desire of praise and the horror of blame :
can any two things be more different than the wish
to improve, and the wish to demonstrate that you
have never been to blame ?

Observe, I only wish you to distinguish these
things in your own minds ; I would by no means
advise you to discontinue the laudable practice of
confounding them perpetually in speaking to others.

When you have nearly exhausted human patience
in explaining, justifying, vindicating ; when, in spite
of all the pains you have taken, you have more than
half betrayed your own vanity ; you have a never-
failing resource, in paying tribute to that of your
opponent, as thus : —

" I am sure you must be sensible that I should
never take so much pains to justify myself if 1 were
indifferent to your opinion. — I know that I ought
not to disturb myself with such trifles ; but nothing
is a trifle to me which concerns you. — I confess I am
too anxious to please ; I know it's a fault, but I
cannot cure myself of it now. — Too quick sensibility,
I am conscious, is the defect of my disposition ; it
would be happier for me if I could be more indif-
ferent, I know."

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 307

Who could be so brutal as to blame so amiable, so
candid a creature ? Who would not submit to be
tormented with kindness ?

When once your captive condescends to be flat-
tered by such arguments as these, your power is
fixed; your future triumphs can be bounded only by
your own moderation ; they are at once secured and
justified.

Forbear not, then, happy pupils ; but, arrived at
the summit of power, give a full scope to your
genius, nor trust to genius alone : to exercise in all
its extent your privileged dominion, you must
acquire, or rather you must pretend to have acquired,
infallible skill in the noble art of physiognomy ; im-
mediately the thoughts as well as the words of your
subjects are exposed to your inquisition.

Words may natter you, but the countenance never
can deceive you; the eyes are the windows of the
soul, and through them you are to watch what passes
in the inmost recesses of the heart. There if you
discern the slightest ideas of doubt, blame, or dis-
pleasure ; if you discover the slightest symptoms of
revolt, take the alarm instantly. Conquerors must
maintain their conquests ; and how easily can they
do this, who hold a secret correspondence with the
minds of the vanquished ! Be your own spies then ;
from the looks, gestures, slightest motions of your
enemies, you are to form an alphabet, a language
intelligible only to yourselves, yet by which you
shall condemn them ; always remembering that in
sound policy suspicion justifies punishment. In
x2

303 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

vain, when you accuse your friends of the high
treason of blaming you, in vain let them plead their
innocence, even of the intention. " They did not
say a word which could be tortured into such a mean-
ing." No, " but they looked daggers, though they
Used none."

And of this you are to be the sole judge, though
there were fifty witnesses to the contrary.

How should indifferent spectators pretend to know
the countenance of your friend as well as you do —
you, that have a nearer, a dearer interest in attend-
ing to it ? So accurate have been your observations,
that no thought of their souls escapes you ; nay, you
often can tell even what they are going to think of.

The science of divination certainly claims your
attention ; beyond the past and the present, it shall
extend your dominion over the future ; from slight
words, half-finished sentences, from silence itself,
you shall draw your omens and auguries.

" I know what you were going to say ;" or, " I
know such a thing was. a sign you \vere inclined to
be displeased with me."

In the ardour of innocence, the culprit, to clear
himself from such imputations, incurs the imputation
of a greater offence. Suppose, to prove that you were
mistaken, to prove that he could not have meant to
blame you, he should declare that at the moment you
mention, " You were quite foreign to his thoughts ;
he was not thinking at all about you."

Then in truth you have a right to be angry. To
one of your class of justificators, this is the highest

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 309

offence. Possessed as you are of the firm opinion
that all persons, at all times, on all occasions, are
intent upon you alone, is it not less mortifying to
discover that you were thought ill of than that you
were not thought of at all ? " Indifference, you
know, sentimental pupils, is more fatal to love than
even hatred."

Thus, my dear pupils, I have endeavoured to pro-
vide precepts adapted to the display of your several
talents ; but if there should be any amongst you who
have no talents, who can neither argue nor persuade,
who have neither sentiment nor enthusiasm, I must
indeed — congratulate them ; — they are peculiarly
qualified for the science of Self-justification : in-
dulgent nature, often even in the weakness, provides
for the protection of her creatures ; just Providence,
as the guard of stupidity, has enveloped it with the
impenetrable armour of obstinacy.

Fair idiots ! let women of sense, wit, feeling, tri-
umph in their various arts: yours are superior.
Their empire, absolute as it sometimes may be, is
perpetually subject to sudden revolutions. With
them, a man has some chance of equal sway : with a
fool he has none. Have they hearts and under-
standings ? Then the one may be touched, or the
other in some unlucky moment convinced ; even in
their very power lies their greatest danger : — not so
with you. In vain let the most candid of his sex
attempt to reason with you; let him begin with,
" Now, my dear, only listen to reason : " — you stop
him at once with, " No, my dear, you know I do not
pretend to reason; I only say, that's my opinion."

310 ESSAY ON SELF- JUSTIFICATION.

Let him go on to prove that yours is a mistaken
opinion : — you are ready to acknowledge it long be-
fore he desires it. " You acknowledge it may be a
wrong opinion ; but still it is your opinion." You do
not maintain it in the least, either because you be-
lieve it to be wrong or right, but merely because it
is yours. Exposed as you might have been to the
perpetual humiliation of being convinced, nature
seems kindly to have denied you all perception of
truth, or at least all sentiment of pleasure from the
perception.

With an admirable humility, you are as well con-
tented to be in the wrong as in the right ; you an-
swer all that can be said to you with a provoking
humility of aspect.

" Yes, I do not doubt but what you say may be
very true, but I cannot tell ; I do not think myself
capable of judging on these subjects; I am sure you
must know much better than I do. I do not pretend
to say but that your opinion is very just ; but I own
I am of a contrary way of thinking ; I always thought
so, and I always shall."

Should a man with persevering temper tell you
that he is ready to adopt your sentiments if you will
only explain them ; should he beg only to have a
reason for your opinion — no, you can give no reason.
Let him urge you to say something in its defence :
No; like queen Anne,* you will only repeat the
same thing over again, or be silent. Silence is the
ornament of your sex; and in silence, if there be

* Vide duchess of Marlborough's Apology.

ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION. 311

not wisdom, there is safety. You will then, if you
please, according to your custom, sit listening to all
entreaties to explain, and speak — with a fixed immu-
tability of posture, and a pre-determined deafness of
eye, which shall put your opponent utterly out of
patience; yet still by persevering with the same
complacent importance of countenance, you shall half
persuade people you could speak if you would ; you
shall keep them in doubt by that true want of mean-
ing, " which puzzles more than wit ; " even because
they cannot conceive the excess of your stupidity,
they shall actually begin to believe that they them-
selves are stupid. Ignorance and doubt are the great
parents of the sublime.

Your adversary, finding you impenetrable to argu-
ment, perhaps would try wit : — but, " On the im-
passive ice the lightnings play." His eloquence or
his kindness will avail less ; when in yielding to you
after a long harangue, he expects to please you, you
will answer undoubtedly with the utmost propriety,
" That you should be very sorry he yielded his judg-
ment to you ; that he is very good ; that you are
much obliged to him ; but that, as to the point in
dispute, it is a matter of perfect indifference to you ;
for your part you have no choice at all about it ; you
beg that he will do just what he pleases ; you know
that it is the duty of a wife to submit ; but you hope,
however, you may have an opinion of your own."

Remember all such speeches as these will lose
above half their effect, if you cannot accompany them
with the vacant stare, the insipid smile, the passive
aspect of the humbly perverse.

312 ESSAY ON SELF-JUSTIFICATION.

Whilst I write, new precepts rush upon my recol-
lection ; but the subject is inexhaustible. I quit it
with regret, though fully sensible of my presumption
in having attempted to instruct those who, whilst
they read, will smile in the consciousness of superior
powers. Adieu ! then, my fair readers : long may
you prosper in the practice of an art peculiar to your
sex ! Long may you maintain unrivalled dominion
at home and abroad ; and long may your husbands
rue the hour when first they made you promise ~" to
obey ! "

[Written in 1787— published in 1795.]

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